tihvaxy  of  Che  Cheolo^icd  ^eminarjo 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


PRESENTED  BY 

The  Estate  of 
Rev,  Robert  0,  Kirkwood 

BX  6333  .M365  W4  1905 
Maclaren,  Alexander,  1826- 

1910. 
Week-day  evening  addresses 


WEEK-DAY 
EVENING    ADDRESSES 


w 


EEK-DAY    EVENING 


ADDRESSES.       De^ 

livered      in      Manchester      by 
Alexander    Maclaren     D.D. 


'    5 


FUNK   <Sf  WAGNALLS   COMPANY 

NEW     YORK 
1905 


CONTENTS 


eUJAH    STANDING    BBFORX      THB    LORD  I     ^ 

THE    OLD    STORE    AND    THE    NEW    .  .         II 

THE    PRAYING    CHRIST      .  •  ..19 

THE     ENCAMPING    ANGEL  •  •  •         §9 


HEROIC     FAITH 


Il  COVTENTS, 

THB    CHARGE    OF   THE   PILGRIM   PRIESTS  4$ 

i^HRISr's    LAMENT   OVEK    OUR    FAITHLESS- 
NESS         54 

AN    OLD    DISCIPLE 63 

"THE     HANDS    OP     THE    MIGHTY    GOD    Of 


jacxjb" 7a 


THE    SHEPHERD,    THE    STONE   OF  ISRAEL  8 1 

THE    UGHT    OF    THE    WORLD  .  •           t  ^I 

FEAR    AND    FAITH    .           ,  •           •  IO3 

WAITING   AND  SINGING      •           •  •           •  112 

QUARTUS   A   BROTHER        •           «  •           •  I>4 

SHOD  FOR  THE  ROAD       •           t  •           •  I3« 


CONTENTS.  rfl 

PAGB 

TARING     FROM      GOD     THE     BEST     GIVING 

TO  GOD    •••••,      142 

SILENCE  TO  GOD      .  •  .  «  •      151 

THE   VALLEY  OF   ACHOR    .  •  «      159 


I. 

ELIJAH   STANDING   BEFORE   THE   LORD. 


I  Kings  xvii.  i. 


Amd  Elijah  the  Tishbite  .   .   .  said  ...  As  the  Lord  God 
of  Israel  liveth,  before  whom  I  stand. 

'T^HIS  solemn  and  remarkable  adjuration  seems  to  have 
■■■    been  habitual  upon  Elijah's  lips  in  the  great  crises  of 
his  life.     We  never  find  it  used  by  any  but  himself,  and 
his  scholar  and  successor,  Elisha. 

Both  of  the  men  employ  it  under  similar  circumstances, 
as  if  unveiling  the  very  secret  of  their  lives,  the  reason  for 
their  strength,  and  for  their  undaunted  bearing  and  bold 
fronting  of  all  antagonism.  We  find  four  instances  in  these 
two  lives  of  the  use  of  the  phrase.  Elijah  bursts  abruptly  on 
the  stage  and  opens  his  mouth  for  the  first  time  to  Ahab,  to 
proclaim  the  coming  of  that  terrible  and  protracted  drought ; 
and  he  bases  his  prophecy  on  that  great  oath,  "  As  the  Lord 
liveth,  before  whom  I  stand."  And  again,  when  he  is  sent 
to  show  himself  to  Ahab  once  more  at  the  close  of  the  period, 
the  same  mighty  word  comes,  "  As  the  Lord  of  Hosts  liveth, 
before  whom  I  stand,  I  will  surely  show  myself  unto  him  this 
day."  And  then  again,  Elisha,  when  he  is  brought  before 
the  three  confederate  kings,  who  taunt,  and  threaten,  and 


t  ELIJAH   STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORD. 

flatter,  to  try  to  draw  smooth  things  frbm  his  lips,  and  gel 
his  sanction  to  their  mad  warfare,  turns  upon  the  poor  crea- 
ture that  called  himself  the  King  of  Israel  with  a  superb 
contempt  that  stayed  itself  on  that  same  great  name,  and 
tells  him,  "  As  the  Lord  liveth,  before  whom  I  stand," 
were  it  not  that  I  had  regard  for  the  King  of  Judah,  I 
would  not  look  toward  you  or  see  you.  And  lastly, 
when  the  grateful  Naaman  seeks  to  change  the  whole 
character  of  Elisha's  miracle,  and  to  turn  it  into  the 
coarseness  of  a  thing  done  for  reward,  once  again  the 
temptation  is  brushed  aside  with  that  solemn  word,  "  As 
the  Lord  liveth,  before  whom  I  stand,  I  will  receive  none.** 

So  at  every  crisis  where  these  prophets  were  brought 
full  front  with  hoetile  power ;  where  a  tremendous  mes- 
sage was  laid  upon  their  hearts  and  lips  to  utter ;  where 
natural  strength  would  fail ;  where  they  were  likely  to  be 
daunted  or  dazzled  by  temptations,  either  of  the  sweet- 
ness or  the  terrors  of  material  things,  these  two  great 
heroes  of  the  Old  Covenant,  out  of  sight  the  strongest 
men  in  the  old  Jewish  history,  steady  themselves  by  one 
thought, — God  lives,  and  l  am  His  servant. 

For  that  phrase,  "before  whom  I  stand,"  obviously 
means  chiefly  "  whom  I  serve."  It  is  found,  for  instance, 
in  Deuteronomy,  where  the  priests'  office  is  thus  defined : 
"  The  sons  of  Levi  shall  stand  before  the  Lord  to  minister 
unto  Him."  And  in  the  same  way,  it  is  used  in  the 
Queen  of  Sheba's  wondering  exclamation  to  Solomon, 
"  Blessed  are  thy  servants,  and  blessed  are  the  men  that 
stand  before  thy  face  continually." 

So  that  the  consciousness  that  they  were  servants  of 
the  living  God  was  the  very  secret  of  the  power  of  these 
men.  This  expression,  which  thus  started  to  their  lips 
in  moments  of  strain  and  trial,  lets  us  see  into  the  very 


ELIJAH  STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORD.  J 

inmost  heart  of  their  strength.  These  two  great  lives, 
which  fill  so  large  a  space  in  the  records  of  the  past,  and 
will  be  remembered  for  ever,  were  braced  and  ennobled 
thus.  The  same  grand  thought  is  available  to  brace  and 
ennoble  our  little  lives,  that  will  soon  be  forgotten  but  by 
a  loving  heart  or  two,  and  yet  may  be  as  full  of  God  and 
of  God's  service  as  those  of  any  of  the  great  of  old.  We 
too  may  use  this  secret  of  power,  "  The  Lord  liveth,  before 
whom  I  stand." 

What  thoughts  then  which  may  tend  to  lift  and  in- 
vigorate our  days  are  included  in  these  words  ?  The  first 
is  surely  this — Life  a  constant  vision  of  God's  presence. 

How  distinct  and  abiding  must  the  vision  of  God  have 
been,  which  burned  before  the  inward  eye  of  the  man 
that  struck  out  that  phrase  !  Wheiever  I  am,  whatever  I 
do,  I  am  before  Him.  To  my  purged  eye,  there  is  the 
Apocalypse  of  heaven,  and  I  behold  the  great  throne, 
and  the  solemn  ranks  of  ministering  spirits,  my  fellow- 
servants,  hearkening  to  the  voice  of  His  word.  No 
excitement  of  work,  no  strain  of  effort,  no  distraction  of 
circumstances,  no  glitter  of  gold,  or  dazzle  of  earthly 
brightness,  dimmed  that  vision  for  these  prophets.  In 
some  measure,  it  was  with  them  as  it  shall  be  perfectly 
with  all  one  day,  "  His  servants  serve  Him,  and  see  His 
face," — action  not  interrupting  the  vision,  nor  the  vision 
weakening  action.  To  preserve  thus  fresh  and  unimpaired, 
amidst  strenuous  work  and  many  temptations,  the  clear 
consciousness  of  being  "  ever  in  the  great  Taskmaster's 
eye,"  needs  resolute  effort  and  much  self-restraint.  It  is 
hard  to  set  the  Lord  always  before  us ;  but  it  is  possible, 
and  in  the  measure  in  which  we  do  it,  we  shall  not  be 
moved. 

How  nobly  the   steadfastness  and   superiority  to  all 


4  ELIJAH  STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORr>. 

temptations  which  such  a  vision  gives,  are  illustrated  by 
the  occasions,  in  these  prophets'  Uves,  in  which  this  ex- 
pression came  to  their  Hps.  The  servant  of  the  Heavenly 
King  speaks  from  his  present  intuition.  As  he  speaks, 
he  sees  the  throne  in  the  heavens,  and  the  Sovereign  Ruler 
there,  and  the  sight  bears  him  up  from  quailing  before  the 
earthly  monarchs  whom  he  had  to  beard,  and  in  connec- 
tion with  whom  three  out  of  the  four  instances  of  the 
use  of  the  phrase  v^ccur.  How  small  Ahab  and  his  court 
must  have  looked  to  eyes  that  were  full  of  the  undazzling 
brightness  of  the  true  King  of  Israel,  and  the  ordered 
ranks  of  His  attendants  !  How  little  the  greatness  !  how 
tawdry  the  pomp  !  how  impotent  the  power,  and  how 
toothless  the  threats  !  The  poor  show  of  the  earthly  king 
paled  before  that  awful  vision,  as  a  dim  candle  will  show 
black  against  the  sun.  "  I  stand  before  the  living  God," 
and  thou,  O  Ahab,  art  but  a  shadow  and  a  noise. 
Just  as  we  may  have  looked  upon  some  mountain  scene, 
where  all  the  highest  summits  were  wrapt  in  mist,  and 
the  lower  hills  looked  mighty  and  majestic,  until  some 
puff  of  wind  came  and  rolled  up  the  curtain  that  had 
shrined  and  hidden  the  icy  pinnacles  and  peaks  that  were 
higher  up.  And  as  that  solemn  white  Apocalypse  rose 
and  towered  to  the  heavens,  we  forgot  all  about  the  green 
hills  below,  because  our  eyes  beheld  the  mighty  summits 
that  live  amongst  the  stars,  and  sparkle  white  through 
eternity. 

My  brethren,  here  is  our  defence  against  being  led  away 
by  the  gauds  and  shows  of  earth's  vulgar  attractions,  or 
being  terrified  by  the  poor  terrors  of  its  enmity.  Go  with 
that  talisman  in  your  hand,  "  The  Lord  Hveth,  before 
whom  I  stand,"  and  everything  else  dwindles  down  into 
nothingness,  and  you  are  a  free  man,  master  and  lord  of 


ELIJAH  STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORD.  5 

all  things,  because  you  are  God's  servants,  seeing  aL 
things  aright,  because  you  see  them  all  in  God,  and  GoA 
in  them  all. 

Still  further,  we  may  say  that  this  phrase  is  the  utter- 
ance and  expression  of  a  consciousness  that  life  was 
echoing  with  the  voice  of  the  Divine  command.  He  stands 
before  the  Lord,  not  only  feeling  in  his  thrilling  spirit  that 
God  is  ever  near  him,  but  also  that  His  word  is  ever 
coming  forth  to  him,  with  imperative  authority.  That  is 
the  prophet's  conception  of  life.  Wherever  he  is,  he 
hears  a  voice  saying,  This  is  the  way,  walk  ye  in  it 
Every  place  where  he  stands  is  as  the  very  holy  place  of 
the  oracles  of  the  Most  High,  the  spot  in  the  innermost 
shrine  where  the  voice  of  the  god  is  audible.  All  circum- 
stances are  the  voice  of  God,  commanding  or  restraining. 
He  is  evermore  pursued,  nay,  rather  upheld  and  guided, 
by  an  all-embracing  law.  That  law  is  no  mere  utterances 
of  iron  impersonal  duty, — a  thought  which  may  make  me  i 
slaves,  but  never  makes  them  good.  But  it  is  the  voi(je 
of  the  living  God,  loving  and  beloved,  whose  tender  care 
for  His  children  modulates  His  voice,  while  He  com- 
mands them  for  their  good.  He  speaks  because  He 
loves  ;  His  Law  is  life.  The  heart  that  hears  Him  speak 
is  filled  with  music 

Ahab  and  Jehoram,  and  all  the  kmgs  of  the  earth,  may 
thunder  and  lighten,  may  threaten  and  flatter,  may  com- 
mand and  forbid,  a^  they  list.  They  and  their  words  are 
nought  to  him  whose  trembling  ears  have  heard,  and 
whose  obedient  heart  has  received,  a  higher  command, 
and  to  whom,  "  across  the  storm,"  comes  the  deeper 
voice  of  the  one  true  Commander,  whom  alone  it  is  a 
glorj'  absolutely  to  obey,  even  "  the  Lord,  before  whom  I 
•tand."      People  talk  about  the  consciousness  of  ''a 


6  ELIJAH  STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORD. 

mission."  The  important  point,  on  the  settling  of  which 
depends  the  whole  character  of  our  lives,  is—  Who  do 
you  suppose  gave  you  your  "  mission  "  ?  Was  it  any 
person  at  all?  or  have  you  any  consciousness  that  any 
will  but  your  own  has  anything  to  say  about  your  life  ? 
These  prophets  had  found  One  whom  it  was  worth  while 
to  obey,  whatever  came  of  it,  and  whosoever  stood  in  the 
way.  May  it  be  so  with  you  and  me,  my  friend  !  Let 
us  try  always  to  feel  that  in  the  commonest  things  we 
may  hear  the  command  of  God,  that  the  trifles  of  each 
day — trifles  though  they  be — vibrate  and  sound  with  the 
reverberation  of  His  great  voice ;  that  in  all  the  outward 
circumstances  of  our  lives,  as  m  all  the  deep  recesses  of 
our  hearts,  we  may  trace  the  indications  and  rudiments  of 
His  will  concerning  us,  which  He  has  perfectly  given  us 
in  that  Gospel  which  is  the  law  of  liberty,  and  in  Him 
who  is  the  Gospel  and  the  perfect  Law.  Then  quietly, 
^thout  bluster  or  mock  heroics,  or  making  a  fiiss  about 
our  independence,  we  can  put  all  other  commands  and 
commanders  in  their  right  place,  with  the  old  words, 
"  With  me  it  is  a  very  small  matter  to  be  judged  of  you, 
or  of  man's  judgment ;  He  that  judgeth  me,  and  He  that 
commandeth  me,  is  the  Lord."  In  answer  to  all  the 
noise  round  about  us  we  can  face  round  like  Elijah,  and 
say,  "  As  the  Lord  liveth,  before  whom  I  stand."  He  is 
my  "  Imperator,"  the  autocrat  and  commander  of  my 
life ;  and  Him,  and  Him  only,  must  I  serve.  What  calm- 
ness, what  dignity  that  would  put  into  our  lives !  The 
never-ceasing  boom  of  the  great  ocean,  as  it  breaks  on 
the  beach,  drowns  all  smaller  sounds.  Those  lives  are 
noble  and  great  in  which  that  deep  voice  is  ever  domi 
namt,  sounding  on  through  all  lesser  voices,  and  day  and 
night  filling  the  soul  with  conmiand  and  awe. 


ELIJAH  STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORD.  7 

Then,  still  further,  we  may  take  another  view  of  these 
words.  They  are  the  utterance  of  a  man  to  whom  his 
life  was  not  only  bright  with  the  radiance  of  a  Divine 
presence,  and  musical  with  the  voice  of  a  Divine  com- 
mand, but  was  also,  on  his  part,  full  of  conscious  obedience. 
No  man  could  say  such  a  thing  of  himself  who  did  not 
feel  that  he  was  rendering  a  real,  earnest,  though  imper- 
fect obedience  to  God.  So,  though  in  one  view  the 
words  express  a  very  lowly  sense  of  absolute  submission 
before  God,  in  another  view  they  make  a  lofty  claim  for 
the  utterer.  He  professes  that  he  stands  before  the  Lord, 
girt  for  His  service,  watching  to  be  guided  by  His  eye, 
and  ready  to  run  when  He  bids.  It  is  the  same  lofty 
sense  of  communion  and  consecration,  issuing  in  authority 
over  others,  which  Elijah's  true  brother  in  later  days,  Paul 
the  apostle,  put  forth  when  he  made  known  to  his  compan- 
ions in  shipwreck  the  will  of  "  the  God,  whose  I  am,  and 
whom  I  serve."  We  may  well  shrink  to  make  such  a 
claim  for  ourselves  when  we  think  of  the  poor,  perfunc- 
tory service  and  partial  consecration  which  our  lives 
show.  But  let  us  rejoice  that  even  w^e  may  venture  to 
say,  "  Truly  I  am  Thy  servant ; "  if  only  we,  like  the 
psalmist,  rest  the  confession  on  the  perfectness  of  what 
He  has  done  for  us,  rather  than  on  the  imperfection  of 
what  we  have  done  for  Him  ;  and  lay,  as  its  foundation, 
"  Thou  hast  loosed  my  bonds."  Then,  though  we  must 
ever  feel  how  poor  our  service,  and  how  unprofitable 
ourselves,  how  little  we  deserve  the  honour,  and  how  im- 
possible that  we  should  ever  earn  the  least  mite  of  wages , 
yet  we  may,  in  all  lowliness,  think  of  ourselves  as  set  free 
that  we  may  serve,  and  lift  our  eyes,  as  the  eyes  of  a 
servant  are  towards  his  master,  to  "the  living  Lord, 
before  whom  we  stand." 


S  EUJAH  STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORD 

Such  a  life  is  necessarily  a  happy  life.    The  one  misen 
of  man  is  self-will,  the  one  secret  of  blessedness  is  the 
conquest  over  our  own  wills.     To  yield  them  up  to  God 
is  rest  and  peace.     If  we  "  stand  before  God,"  then  that 
means  that  our  wills  are  brought  into  harmony  with  His. 
And  that  means  that  the  one  poison  drop  is  squeezed  out 
of  our  lives,  and  that  sweetness  and  joy  are  infused  into 
them.      For   what    disturbs    us    in    this    world    is    not 
'*  trouble,"   but    our   opposition    to    trouble.     The    true 
source  of  all  that  frets  and  irritates,  and  wears  away  our 
lives,  is  not  in  external  things,  but  in  the  resistance  of  our 
wills  to  the  will  of  God  expressed  by  external  things.     I 
suppose  we  shall  never  here  bring  these  wills  of  ours  into 
perfect  correspondence  with  His,  any  more  than  we  shall 
ever,  with  our  shaking  hands  and  blunt  pencils,  draw  a 
perfectly  straight  line.     But  if  will  and  heart  are  brought 
even  to  a  rude  approach  to  parallelism  with  His,  if  we 
accept  His  voice  when  He  takes  away,  and  obey  it  when 
He  commands,  we  shall  be  quiet  and  peaceful.   We  shall 
be  strong  and  unwearied,  freed  from  corroding  cares  and 
exhausting  rebellions,  which  take  far  more  out  of  a  man 
than  any  work  does.     "  Thy  word  was  found,  and  I  did 
eat  it."     When  we  thus  take  God's  command  into  our 
spirits,  and  feed  upon  it  with  will  and  understanding,  it 
becomes,  as  the  psalmist  found  it,  the  "  joy  and  rejoicing 
of  our  hearts  ;  "  Elijah-like,  we  shall  go  in  the  strength  of 
that  meat  many  days.    The  secret  of  power  and  of  calm  is 
— yield  your  will  to  the  loving  Lord,  and  stand  ever  before 
Him  with,  "  Here  am  I,  send  me." 

We  may  add  one  more  remark  to  these  various  views 
of  the  significance  of  this  expression,  to  which  the  last 
instance  of  its  use  may  help  us.  Here  it  is :  "  And 
Naaman  said,  I  pray  thee,  take  a  blessing  of  thy  servant. 


ELIJAH  STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORI.».  9 

But  he  said,  As  the  Lord  Hveth,  before  whom  I  stand,  I 
will  receive  none." 

The  thought,  which  made  all  Elijah's  life  bright  with 
the  light  of  God's  presence,  which  filled  his  ear  with  the 
unremitting  voice  of  a  Divine  Law,  which  swayed  and 
bowed  his  will  to  joyful  obedience,  chilled  and  dead- 
ened his  desires  for  all  earthly  rewards,  "  I  am  not  thy 
servant.  I  am  God's  servant.  It  is  not  your  business 
to  pay  my  wages.  I  cannot  dishonour  my  Master  by 
taking  payment  from  thee  for  doing  His  work.  I  look 
for  everything  from  Him,  for  nothing  from  thee." 

And  is  there  not  a  broad  general  truth  involved  there, 
namely,  that  such  a  life  as  we  have  been  describing  will 
find  its  sole  reward  where  it  finds  its  inspiration  and  its 
law  ?  The  Master's  approval  is  the  servant's  best  wages. 
If  we  truly  feel  that  the  Lord  livetK  before  whom  we 
stand,  we  shall  want  nothing  else  for  our  work  but  His 
smile,  and  we  shall  feel  that  the  light  of  His  face  is  all 
we  need.  That  thought  should  deaden  our  love  for  out- 
ward things.  How  little  we  need  to  care  about  any  pay- 
ment that  the  world  can  give  for  anything  we  do  !  If  we 
feel,  as  we  ought,  that  we  are  God's  servants,  that  will 
lift  us  clear  above  the  low  aims  and  desires  which  meet 
us.  How  little  we  shall  care  for  money,  for  men's  praise, 
for  getting  on  in  the  world  !  How  the  things  that  we 
fever  our  souls  by  pursuing,  and  fret  our  hearts  when  we 
lose,  will  cease  to  attract !  How  small  and  vulgar  the 
"  prizes  "  of  life,  as  people  call  them,  will  appear !  "  The 
Lord  liveth,  before  whom  I  stand,"  should  be  enough  for 
us,  and  instead  of  all  these  rnotives  to  action  drawn  from 
the  rewards  of  this  world,  we  ought  to  "labour  that, 
whether  present  or  absent,  we  may  be  well-pleasing  to 
Him." 


lo        ELIJAH  STANDING  BEFORE  THE  LORD. 

Not  the  fading  leaves  of  the  victor's  wreath,  laurel 
though  they  be,  nor  the  corruptible,  things  as  silver  and 
gold,  whereof  earth's  diadems  and  rewards  are  fashioned, 
but  the  incorruptible  cro\vn  that  fadeth  not  away,  which 
His  hand  will  give,  should  fire  our  hope,  and  shine  before 
our  faith.  Not  Naaman's  gifts  but  God's  approval  is 
Elisha's  reward.  Not  the  praise  from  lips  that  will 
perish,  or  the  "  hollow  wraith  of  dying  fame,"  but  Christ's 
"Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant,"  should  be  a 
Christian's  aim. 

May  we,  brethren,  possess  the  "  spirit  and  the  power 
of  Elias  ;  "-—the  spirit,  in  that  we  know  ourselves  to  be  the 
servants  of  the  living  God ;  and  then  we  shall  have  some 
measure  of  his  dauntless  power  and  heroic  unworldliness  ! 

Still  better,  may  we  have  the  Spirit  of  Him  who  was 
the  Servant  of  the  Lord,  diviner  in  his  gentle  meekness 
than  the  fiery  prophet  in  his  lonely  strength  I  Make  yours 
the  mind  that  was  in  Christ,  that  you  too  may  say,  "  Lo, 
I  come,  in  the  volume  of  the  book  it  is  written  of  me,  I 
Might  to  do  Thy  will,  yea,  Thy  law  is  within  my  heart." 


II. 

THE   OLD   STORE  AND   THE   NEW. 


Leviticus  xxvi.  lo. 
Ve  shall  eat  old  store,  and  bring  forth  the  old  because  of  the 


T 


HIS  is  one  of  the  blessings  promised  to  obedience. 
No  doubt  it,  like  the  other  elements  of  that  "  pros- 
perity" which  "is  the  blessing  of  the  Old  Testament," 
presupposes  a  supernatural  order  of  things,  in  which 
material  well-being  was  connected  with  moral  good  fai 
more  closely  and  certainly  than  we  see  to  be  the  case. 
But  the  spirit  and  heart  of  the  promise  remain,  however 
the  form  of  it  may  have  passed  away.  It  is  a  picturesque 
way  of  saying  that  the  harvest  shall  be  more  than  enough 
for  the  people's  wants.  All  through  the  winter,  and  the 
spring,  and  the  ripening  summer,  their  granaries  shall 
yield  supplies.  There  will  be  no  season  of  scarcity  such 
as  often  occurs  in  countries  whose  communications  are 
imperfect,  just  before  harvest,  when  the  last  year's 
crop  is  exhausted,  and  it  is  hard  to  get  anything  to  live 
on  till  this  year's  is  ready.  But  when  the  new  wheat 
comes  in  they  will  have  still  much  of  the  old,  and  will  have 
to  "  bring  it  forth  "  to  empty  their  bams,  to  make  room 
for  the  fresh  supplies  which  the  blessing  of  God  has  sent 


IS       THE  OLD  STORE  AND  THE  NEW 

before  they  were  needed.  The  same  idea  of  superabund 
ant  yield  from  their  fields  is  given  under  another  form  in 
a  previous  verse  of  this  chapter  (ver.  5) :  "  Your  threshing 
shall  reach  unto  the  vintage,  and  the  vintage  shall  reach 
unto  the  sowing  time,  and  ye  shall  eat  your  bread  to  the 
full : "  which  reminds  one  of  the  striking  prophecy  of 
Amos  :  "  Behold,  the  days  come,  saith  the  Lord,  that  the 
plowman  shall  overtake  the  reaper,  and  the  treader  of 
grapes  him  that  soweth  seed."  So  rapid  the  growth,  and  so 
large  the  fruitfulness,  that  the  gatherer  sLall  follow  close 
on  the  heels  of  the  sower,  and  will  not  have  accomplished 
his  task  before  it  is  again  time  to  sow.  The  prophet 
clearly  has  in  his  mind  the  old  promise  of  the  law,  and 
applies  it  to  higher  matters,  even  to  the  fields  white  to 
harvest,  where  he  that  soweth  and  he  that  reapeth  shall 
rejoice  together.  In  the  same  way  we  may  take  these 
words,  and  gather  from  them  better  promises  and  larger 
thoughts  than  they  originally  carried. 

There  is  in  them  a  promise  as  to  the  fulness  of  the  Divine 
gifts,  which  has  a  far  wider  reach  and  nobler  application 
t'nan  to  the  harvests  and  granaries  of  old  Palestine. 

We  may  take  the  words  in  that  aspect,  first,  as  contain- 
ing God's  pledge  that  these  outward  gifts  shall  come  in 
unbroken  continuity.  And  have  they  not  so  come  to  us 
all,  for  all  these  long  years  ?  Has  there  ever  been  a  gap 
left  yawning  ?  has  there  ever  been  a  break  in  the  chain  of 
mercies  and  supplies  ?  has  it  not  rather  been  that  "  one 
post  ran  to  meet  another  "  ?  that  before  one  of  the  rnes 
sengers  had  unladed  all  his  budget,  another's  arrival  has 
antiquated  and  put  aside  his  store  ?  True,  we  are  often 
brought  very  low ;  there  may  not  be  much  in  the  barr 
but  sweepings,  and  a  few  stray  grains  scattered  over  the 
floor.      We  may  have  but  the  handful  of  meal  in  the 


THE  OLD  STORE  AND  THE  NEW.  13 

barrel,  and  be  ready  to  dress  it  "  that  we  may  eat  it,  and 
die."  But  it  never  really  comes  to  that.  The  new  ever 
comes  before  the  old  is  all  eaten  up ;  or  if  it  be  delayed 
even  beyond  that  time,  it  comes  before  the  hunger  reaches 
inanition.  It  may  be  good  that  we  should  have  to  trust 
Him,  even  when  the  storehouse  is  empty;  it  may  be 
good  for  us  to  know  something  of  want,  but  that  dis- 
cipline comes  seldom,  and  is  never  carried  very  far.  For 
the  most  part  He  anticipates  wants  by  gifts,  and  His  good 
gifts  overlap  each  other  in  our  outward  lives  as  slates  on 
a  roof,  or  scales  on  a  fish. 

We  wonder  at  the  smooth  working  of  the  machinery 
for  feeding  a  great  city ;  and  how,  day  by  day,  the  pro- 
visions come  at  the  right  time,  and  are  parted  out  among 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  homes.  But  we  seldom  think 
of  the  punctual  love,  the  perfect  knowledge,  the  profound 
wisdom  which  cares  for  us  all,  and  is  always  in  time  with 
its  gifts.  It  was  that  quality  of  punctuality  extended  over 
a  whole  universe  which  seemed  so  wonderful  to  the 
Psalmist :  "  The  eyes  of  all  wait  upon  Thee,  and  Thou 
givest  them  their  meat  in  due  season."  God's  machinery 
for  distribution  is  perfect,  and  its  very  perfection,  with  the 
constancy  of  the  resulting  blessings,  rob  Him  of  His 
praise,  and  hinder  our  gratitude.  By  assiduity  He  loses 
admiration. 

"  Things  grown  common  lose  their  dear  delight."  If  in 
His  gifts  and  benefits  He  were  more  sparing  and  close- 
handed,"  .said  Luther,  "  we  should  learn  to  be  thankful." 
But  let  us  learn  it  by  the  continuity  of  our  joys,  that  we 
may  not  need  to  be  taught  by  their  interruption ;  and  let 
us  still  all  tremulous  anticipation  of  possible  failure  or 
certain  loss  by  the  happy  confidence  which  we  have  a  right 
to  cherish,  that  His  mercies  will  meet  our  needs,  cod- 


14  THE  OLD  STORE  AND  THiS  NEW 

tinuous  as  they  are,  and  be  threaded  so  close  together  on 
the  poor  thread  of  our  lives  that  no  gap  will  be  discernible 
in  the  jewelled  circle. 

May  we  not  apply  that  same  thought  of  the  unbroken 
continuity  of  God's  gifts  to  the  higher  region  of  our 
spiritual  experience  ?  His  supplies  of  wisdom,  love,  joy, 
peace,  power  to  our  souls,  are  always  enough,  and  more 
than  enough  for  our  wants.  If  ever  men  complain  of 
languishing  vitality  in  their  religious  emotions,  or  of  a 
stinted  supply  of  food  for  their  truest  self,  it  is  their  c>^n 
fault,  not  His.  He  means  that  there  should  be  no 
parentheses  of  famine  in  our  Christian  life.  It  is  not  His 
doing  if  times  of  torpor  alternate  with  seasons  of  quick 
energy  and  joyful  fulness  of  life.  So  far  as  He  is  con- 
cerned the  flow  is  uninterrupted,  and  if  it  come  to  us  in 
jets  and  spurts  like  some  intermittent  well,  it  is  because 
our  own  evil  has  put  some  obstacle  to  choke  the  channel 
and  dam  out  His  Spirit  from  our  spirits.  We  cannot  too 
firmly  hold,  or  too  profoundly  feel,  that  an  unbroken  con- 
tinuity of  supplies  of  His  grace — unbroken  and  bright  as 
a  sunbeam  reaching  in  one  golden  shaft  all  the  way  from 
the  sun  to  the  earth — is  His  purpose  concerning  us. 
Here,  in  this  highest  region,  the  thought  of  our  text  is 
most  absolutely  true ;  for  He  who  gives  is  ever  pouring 
forth  His  own  self  for  us  to  take,  and  there  is  no  limit  to 
our  reception  but  our  capacity  and  our  desire ;  nor  any 
reason  for  a  moment's  break  in  our  possession  of  love, 
righteousness,  peace,  but  our  withdrawal  of  our  souls 
from  beneath  the  Niagara  of  His  grace.  As  long  as  we 
keep  our  poor  vessels  below  that  constant  downpour 
they  will  be  full.  It  is  all  our  own  blame  if  they  are 
empty.  Why  should  Christian  people  have  these  dismal 
times  of  deadness,  these  parentheses  of  paralysis  ?  as  if 


THE   OLD  STORE   AND   THE   NEW.  15 

our  growth  must  be  like  that  of  a  tree  with  its  alternations 
of  winter  sleep  and  summer  waking?  In  regard  to  out- 
ward blessings  we  are,  as  it  were,  put  upon  rations,  and 
that  He  gives  us  we  gather.  There  He  sometimes  does,  in 
love  and  wnsdora,  put  us  on  very  short  allowance,  and 
even  now  and  then  causes  "  the  fields  to  yield  no  meat." 
But  never  is  it  so  in  the  higher  region.  There  he  puts 
the  key  of  the  storehouse  into  our  own  hands,  and  we  may 
take  as  much  as  we  will,  and  have  as  much  as  we  take. 
There  the  bread  of  God  is  given  for  evermore,  and  He 
wills  that  in  uninterrupted  abundance  the  meek  shall  eat 
and  be  satisfied. 

The  source  »s  full  to  overflowing,  and  there  are  no 
limits  to  the  supply.  The  only  limit  is  our  capacity, 
which  again  is  largely  determined  by  our  desire.  So  after 
all  His  gifts  there  is  more  yet  unreceived  to  possess.  After 
all  his  Self  Revelation  there  is  more  yet  unspoken  to 
declare.  Great  as  is  the  goodness  which  He  has  wrought 
before  the  sons  of  men  for  them  that  trust  in  Him,  there 
are  far  greater  treasures  of  goodness  laid  up  m  the  deep 
mines  of  God  for  them  that  fear  Him.  Bars  of  uncoined 
treasure  and  ingots  of  massy  gold  lie  in  His  storehouses, 
to  be  put  into  circulation  as  soon  as  we  need,  and  can 
use,  them.  Hence  we  have  the  right  to  look  for  an  end- 
less increase  in  our  possession  of  God;  and  from  the 
consideration  of  an  Infinite  Spirit  that  imparts  Himself, 
and  of  finite  but  indefinitely  expansible  spirits  that  receive, 
the  certainty  arises  of  an  endless  life  for  us  of  growing 
glory  ;  a  heaven  of  ceaseless  advance,  where  in  constant 
alternation  desire  shall  widen  capacity,  and  capacity 
increase  fruition,  and  fruition  lead  in,  not  satiety,  but 
quickened  appetite  and  deeper  longing. 

But  we  may  also  see  in  this  text  the  prescription  of 


I6  THE   OLD    STORE   AND   THE  NEW. 

duty  as  well  as  the  announcement  of  a  promise.  There 
is  direction  here  as  to  our  manner  of  receiving  God's 
gifts,  as  well  as  large  assurance  as  to  His  manner  of 
bestowing  them.  It  is  His  to  substitute  the  new  for  the 
old.  It  is  ours  gladly  to  accept  the  exchange,  a  task  not 
always  easy  or  pleasant. 

No  doubt  there  is  a  natural  love  of  change  deep  in  us 
all,  but  that  is  held  in  check  by  its  opposite,  and  all 
poetry  and  human  life  itself  are  full  of  the  sadness  bom 
of  mutation.  Our  Lord  laid  bare  a  deep  tendency,  when 
He  said,  *'  No  man  having  tasted  old  wine,  straightway 
desireth  new ;  because  he  saith  the  old  is  'better."  We 
cling  to  what  is  familiar,  in  the  very  furniture  of  our 
houses  ;  and  yet  we  are  ever  being  forced  to  accept  what 
is  strange  and  new,  and,  like  some  fresh  article  in  a  room, 
t  is  cut  of  harmony  with  the  well-worn  things  that  you 
nave  seen  standing  in  their  comers  for  years.  It  takes 
some  time  for  the  raw  look  to  wear  off,  and  for  us  to 
"  get  used  to  it,"  as  we  say.  So  is  it,  though  often  for 
deeper  reasons,  in  far  more  important  things.  A  man, 
for  instance,  has  been  engaged  in  some  kind  of  business 
for  years,  and  at  last  God  shows  him,  by  clear  indications, 
that  he  must  tum  to  something  else.  How  slow  he  is  to 
see  it,  how  reluctant  to  do  it !  How  he  cleaves  to  the 
"  old  store  "  !  How  he  shrinks  from  cleaning  out  the  bam, 
to  bring  in  the  new  !  Or  a  household  has  been  going  on 
for  many  days  unbroken,  and  at  last  a  time  comes  when 
some  of  its  members  have  to  pass  out  into  new  circum- 
stances ;  a  son  to  push  his  way  in  the  world,  a  daughter 
to  brighten  another  fireside.  It  is  hard  for  the  parents 
CO  enter  fully  into  the  high  hopes  of  their  children,  and 
to  accept  the  new  condition,  without  many  vain  longings 
for  the  old  days  that  can  never  come  back  any  more. 


THE   OLD   STORE   AND   THE   NEW.  17 

So,  all  through  our  lives,  wisdom  and  faith  say,  "  Bring 
forth  the  old  because  of  the  new."  Accept  cheerfully 
the  law  of  constant  change  under  which  God's  love  has 
set  us.  Do  not  let  the  pleasant  bonds  of  habit  tie  down 
your  hearts  so  tightly  to  the  familiar  possessions  that  you 
shrink  from  the  introduction  of  fresh  elements.  Be  sure 
that  the  new  comes  from  the  same  loving  hand  which  • 
sent  the  old  in  its  season,  and  that  change  is  meant  to  be 
progress.  Do  not  confine  yourselves  within  any  mill- 
horse  round  of  associations  and  occupations.  Front  the 
vicissitudes  of  life,  not  merely  with  brave  patience,  but 
with  happy  confidence,  for  they  all  come  from  Him 
whose  love  is  older  than  your  oldest  blessings,  and  whose 
mercies,  new  every  morning,  express  themselves  afresh 
through  every  change.  Welcome  the  new,  treasure  the 
old,  and  in  both  see  the  purpose  of  that  loving  Father, 
who.  Himself  unchanged,  changeth  all  things,  and 

" fulfils  Himself  in  many  ways, 

Lest  one  good  custom  should  corrupt  the  world. " 

In  higher  matters  than  these,  our  text  may  give  us  counsel 
as  to  our  duty.  "  God  hath  more  light  yet  to  break  forth 
from  His  holy  word."  We  are  bound  to  welcome  new 
truth,  so  soon  as  to  our  apprehensions  it  has  made  good 
its  title,  and  not  to  refuse  it  lodgment  in  our  minds 
because  it  needs  the  displacement  of  their  old  contents 
In  the  region  of  our  knowledge  and  of  our  Christian  life, 
most  chiefly,  are  we  under  solemn  obligations  to  "  bring 
forth  the  old  store  because  of  the  new ; "  if  we  would  not 
be  unfaithful  to  God's  great  educational  process  that  goes 
on  aU  our  lives.  It  is  often  difficult  to  adjust  the  re- 
lations of  our  last  lesson  with  our  previous  possessions. 
There  is  always  a  temptation  to  make  too  much  of  a  new 

c 


iS  THE  OLD    STORE  AND   THE   NEW. 

truth,  and  to  fancy  that  it  will  produce  more  change  in 
our  whole  mental  furniture  than  it  really  will.  No  man 
is  less  likely  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  than 
he  who  is  always  deep  in  love  with  some  new  thought, 
"  the  Cynthia  of  the  minute,"  and  ever  ready  to  barter 
"  old  lamps  for  new  ones."  But  all  these  things  admitted, 
still  it  remains  true  that  we  are  here  to  learn,  that  our 
education  is  to  go  on  all  our  days,  and  that  here  on  earth 
it  can  only  be  carried  on  by  our  parting  with  the  old 
store,  which  may  have  become  musty  by  long  lying  in  the 
granaries,  to  make  room  for  the  new,  just  gathered  in  the 
ripened  fields.  The  great  central  truths  of  God  in  Christ 
are  to  be  kept  for  ever ;  but  we  shall  come  to  grasp  them 
in  their  fulness  only  by  joyfully  welcoming  every  fresh 
access  of  clearer  light  which  falls  upon  them  ;  and  gladly 
la)ang  aside  our  inadequate  thoughts  of  God's  permanent 
revelation  of  Himself  in  Jesus  Christ,  to  house  and  gamer 
in  heart  and  spirit  the  fuller  knowledge  which  it  may 
please  Him  to  impart. 

So  the  law  for  life  is  thankful  enjoyment  of  the  old 
store,  and  openness  of  mind  and  freedom  of  heart  which 
permit  its  unreluctsint  surrender  when  newer  harvests 
ripen.  And  the  highest  form  of  the  promise  of  our 
text  will  be  when  we  pass  into  another  world,  and  its  rich 
abundance  is  poured  out  into  our  laps.  Blessed  they 
who  can  ^villingly  put  away  the  familiar  blessings  of  earth, 
imd  stretch  out,  willingly-emptied,  expectant  hands  to 
meet  the  "  new  store  "  of  Heaven  ! 


III. 

THE  PRAYING  CHRIST. 


Luke  xi.  i. 

Ai  He  was  praying  in  a  certain  place,  when  He  ceased,  one  of  Hit 
disciples  said  unto  Him,  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray. 

IT  is  noteworthy  that  we  owe  our  knowledge  of  the 
prayers  of  Jesus  principally  to  the  Evangelist  Luke. 
There  is,  indeed,  one  solemn  hour  of  supplication  under 
the  quivering  shadows  of  the  olive -trees  in  Geth* 
semane  which  is  recorded  by  Matthew  and  Mark  as 
well;  and  though  the  fourth  Gospel  passes  over  that 
agony  of  prayer,  it  gives  us,  in  accordance  with  its 
ruling  purpose,  the  great  chapter  that  records  His  priestly 
intercession.  But  in  addition  to  these  instances  the  first 
Gospel  furnishes  but  one,  and  the  second  but  two  refer- 
ences  to  the  subject.  All  the  others  are  found  in  Luke. 
I  need  not  stay  to  point  out  how  this  fact  tallies  with 
the  many  other  characteristics  of  the  third  Gospel,  which 
mark  it  as  eminently  the  story  of  the  Son  of  Man.  The 
record  which  traces  our  Lord's  descent  to  Adam  rather 
than  to  Abraham ;  which  tells  the  story  of  His  birth,  and 
gives  us  all  we  know  of  the  "  child  Jesus  ; "  which  recordi 
His  growth  in  wisdom  and  stature,  and  has  preserved  a 


10  THE   PRAYING  CHRIST. 

multitude  of  minute  points  bearing  on  His  true  manhood, 
as  well  as  on  the  tenderness  of  His  sympathy  and  the 
universality  of  His  work ;  most  naturally  emphasizes  that 
most  precious  indication  of  His  humanity — His  habitual 
prayerfulness.  The  Gospel  of  the  King,  which  is  the 
first  Gospel,  or  of  the  Servant,  which  is  the  second,  or  of 
the  Son  of  God,  which  is  the  fourth,  had  less  occasion  to 
dwell  on  this.  Royalty,  practical  Obedience,  Divinity, 
are  their  respective  themes  Manhood  is  Luke's,  and  he 
is  ever  pointing  us  to  the  kneeling  Christ. 

Consider,  then,  for  a  moment  how  precious  the  prayers 
of  Jesus  are,  as  bringing  Him  very  near  to  us  in  His  true 
manhood.  There  are  deep  and  mysterious  truths  in- 
volved which  we  do  not  meddle  with  now.  But  there 
are  also  plain  and  surface  truths  which  are  very  helpful 
and  blessed.  We  thank  God  for  the  story  of  His  weari- 
ness when  He  sat  on  the  well,  and  of  His  slumber  when, 
worn  out  with  a  hard  day's  work,  He  slept  on  the  hard 
wooden  pillow  in  the  stem  of  the  fishing-boat,  among  the 
nets  and  the  litter.  It  brings  Him  near  to  us  when  we 
read  that  He  thirsted,  and  nearer  still  when  the  immortal 
words  fall  on  our  wondering  ears,  "  Jesus  wept."  But 
even  more  precious  than  these  indications  of  His  true 
participation  in  physical  needs  and  human  emotion,  is 
the  great  evidence  of  His  prayers,  that  He  too  lived  a 
life  of  dependence,  of  communion,  and  of  submission  ; 
that  in  our  religious  life,  as  in  all  our  life,  He  is  our 
pattern  and  forerunner.  As  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
puts  it,  He  shows  that  He  is  not  ashamed  to  call  us 
brethren  by  this, — that  He  too  avows  that  He  hves  by 
faith  ;  and  by  His  life — and  surely  pre-eminently  by  His 
prayers — declares,  "  I  will  put  my  trust  in  Him."  We  can 
not  think  of  Christ  too  often  or  too  absolutely  as  the 


THE   PRAYING   CHRIST.  tl 

Object  of  Faith,  and  as  the  hearer  of  our  cries  j  but  we 
may,  and  some  of  us  do,  think  of  Him  too  seldom  as  the 
Pattern  of  Faith,  and  as  the  example  for  our  devotion. 
We  should  feel  Him  a  great  deal  nearer  us ;  and  the  fact 
of  His  manhood  would  not  only  be  grasped  more  clearly 
by  orthodox  believers,  but  would  be  felt  in  more  of  its 
true  tenderness,  if  we  gave  more  prommence  in  our 
thoughts  to  that  picture  of  the  praying  Christ. 

Another  point  that  may  be  suggested  is,  that  the  high- 
est, holiest  life,  needs  specific  acts  and  times  of  prayers.  A 
certain  fantastical  and  over-strained  spirituality  is  not 
rare,  which  professes  to  have  got  beyond  the  need  of 
such  beggarly  elements.  Some  tinge  of  this  colours  the 
'.labits  of  many  people  who  are  scarcely  conscious  of  its 
jresence,  and  makes  them  somewhat  careless  as  to  forms 
md  times  of  public  or  of  private  worship.  I  do  not  think 
I  am  wrong  in  saying  that  there  is  a  growing  laxity  in 
that  matter  among  people  who  are  really  trying  to  live 
Christian  lives.  We  may  well  take  the  lesson  which 
Christ's  prayers  teach  us,  for  we  all  need  it, — that  no  life  is 
lo  high,  so  holy,  so  full  of  habitual  communion  with  God, 
iat  it  can  afford  to  do  without  the  hour  of  prayer,  the 
^cret  place,  the  uttered  word.  If  we  are  to  "  pray  with- 
out ceasing,"  by  the  constant  attitude  of  communion,  and 
Jie  constant  conversion  of  work  into  worship,  we  must 
certainly  have,  and  we  shall  undoubtedly  desire,  special 
noments  when  the  daily  sacrifice  of  doing  good  passes 
into  the  sacrifice  of  our  lips.  The  devotion  which  is  to 
be  diffused  through  our  lives  must  be  first  concentrated 
and  evolved  in  our  prayers.  These  are  the  gathering- 
grounds  which  feed  the  river.  The  life  that  was  all  one 
long  prayer  needed  the  mountain-top  and  the  nightly 
converse  with  God.      He  who  could  say,  "The  Father 


as  THE  PRAYING  CHRIST. 

hath  not  left  me  alone,  for  I  do  always  the  things  that 
please  Him,"  felt  that  He  must  also  have  the  special 
communion  of  spoken  prayer.  What  Christ  needed  we 
cannot  afford  to  neglect. 

Thus  Christ's  own  prayers  do,  in  a  very  real  sense, 
"teach  us  to  pray."  But  it  strikes  me  that,  if  we  will 
take  the  instances  in  which  we  find  Him  praying,  and  try 
to  classify  them  in  a  rough  way,  we  may  gain  some  hints 
worth  laying  to  heart.     Let  me  attempt  this  briefly  now. 

First,  then,  th^  praying  Christ  teaches  us  to  pray  as  a 
rest  after  service. 

The  Evangelist  Mark  gives  us  in  his  brief,  vivid  way, 
a  wonderful  picture  in  his  first  chapter  of  Christ's  first 
Sabbath-day  of  ministry  in  Capernaum.  It  was  crowded 
with  work.  The  narrative  goes  hurrying  on  through 
the  busy  hours,  marking  the  press  of  rapidly  succeeding 
calls  by  its  constant  reiteration — "straightway,"  "im- 
mediately," "forthwith,"  "anon,"  "immediately."  He 
teaches  in  the  synagogue;  without  breath  or  pause  He 
heals  a  man  with  an  unclean  spirit ;  then  at  once  passes 
to  Simon's  house,  and  as  soon  as  He  enters  has  to  listen 
to  the  story  of  how  the  wife's  mother  lay  sick  of  a  fever. 
They  might  have  let  Him  rest  for  a  moment,  but  they  are 
too  eager,  and  He  is  too  pitying  for  delay.  As  soon  as 
He  hears,  He  helps.  As  soon  as  He  bids  it,  the  fever 
departs.  As  soon  as  she  is  healed,  the  woman  is  serving 
them.  There  can  have  been  but  a  short  snatch  of  such 
rest  as  such  a  house  could  afford.  Then  when  the 
shadows  of  the  western  hills  began  to  fall  upon  the  blue 
waters  of  the  lake,  and  the  sunset  ended  the  restrictions 
of  the  Sabbath,  He  is  besieged  by  a  crowd  fiill  of  sorrow 
and  sickness,  and  all  about  the  door  they  lie,  waiting  foi 
ita  opening.     He  could  not  keep  it  shut  any  more  than 


THE  PRAYING   CHRIST.  a$ 

His  heart  or  His  hand,  and  so  all  through  the  short  twi- 
light, and  deep  into  the  night.  He  toils  amongst  the  dim 
prostrate  forms.  What  a  day  it  had  been  of  hard  toil,  as 
well  as  of  exhausting  sympathy  ! 

And  what  was  His  refreshment  ?  An  hour  or  two  of 
slumber ;  and  then,  "  in  the  morning,  rising  up  a  great 
while  before  day.  He  went  out,  and  departed  into  a  soli- 
tary place,  and  there  prayed"  (Mark  i.  35). 

In  the  same  way  we  find  Him  seeking  the  same  repose 
after  another  period  of  much  exertion  and  strain  on  body 
and  mind.  He  had  withdrawn  Himself  and  His  disciples 
from  the  bustle  which  Mark  describes  so  graphically. 
"  There  were  many  coming  and  going,  and  they  had  no 
leisure,  so  much  as  to  eat."  So,  seeking  quiet.  He  take' 
them  across  the  lake  into  the  solitudes  on  the  other  side 
But  the  crowds  from  all  the  villages  near  its  head  catch 
sight  of  the  boat  in  crossing,  and  hurry  round ;  and  there 
they  all  are  at  the  landing-place,  eager  and  exacting  as 
ever.  He  throws  aside  the  purpose  of  rest,  and  all  day 
long,  wearied  as  He  was,  "  taught  them  many  things." 
The  closing  day  brings  no  respite.  He  thinks  of  their 
hunger  before  His  own  fatigue,  and  will  not  send  them 
away  fasting.  So  He  ends  that  day  of  labour  by  the 
miracle  of  feeding  the  nve  thousand.  The  crowds  gone 
to  their  homes.  He  can  at  last  think  of  Himself;  and 
what  is  His  rest  ?  He  loses  not  a  moment  in  "  constrain- 
ing "  His  disciples  to  go  away  to  the  other  side,  as  if  in 
haste  to  remove  the  last  hindrance  to  something  that  He 
had  been  longing  to  get  to.  "  And  when  He  had  sent 
them  away.  He  departed  into  a  mountain  to  pray"  (Mark 
vi.  46  ;  Matt.  xiv.  23). 

That  was  Christ's  refreshment  after  His  toil.  So  He 
blended  contemplation  and  service,  the  life  of  inward 


14  THE   PRAYING   CHRIST; 

communion  and  the  life  of  practical  obedience.  How- 
much  more  do  we  need  to  interpose  the  soothing  and 
invigorating  influences  of  quiet  communion  between  the 
acts  of  external  work,  since  our  work  may  harm  us,  as 
His  never  did  Him.  It  may  disturb  and  dissipate  our 
communion  with  God ;  it  may  weaken  the  very  motive 
from  which  it  should  arise ;  it  may  withdraw  our  gaze 
from  God  and  fix  it  upon  ourselves.  It  may  puff  us  up 
with  the  conceit  of  our  own  powers  ;  it  may  fret  us  with 
the  annoyances  of  resistance  ;  it  may  depress  us  with  the 
consciousness  of  failure ;  and  in  a  hundred  other  ways 
may  waste  and  wear  away  our  personal  religion.  The 
more  we  work  the  more  we  need  to  pray.  In  this  day 
of  activity  there  is  great  danger,  not  of  doing  too  much, 
but  of  praying  too  little  for  so  much  work.  These  two 
— work  and  prayer,  action  and  contemplation — are  twin- 
sisters.  Each  pines  without  the  other.  We  are  ever 
tempted  to  cultivate  one  or  the  other  disproportionately. 
Let  us  imitate  Him  who  sought  the  mountain-top  as  His 
refreshment  after  toil,  but  never  left  duties  undone  or 
sufferers  unrelieved  in  pain.  Let  us  imitate  Him  who 
turned  from  the  joys  of  contemplation  to  the  joys  of 
service  without  a  murmur,  when  His  disciples  broke  in  on 
His  solitude  with,  "  all  men  seek  thee,"  but  never  suffered 
the  outward  work  to  blunt  His  desire  for,  nor  to  encroach 
on  the  hour  of,  still  communion  with  His  Father.  Lord, 
teach  us  to  work  ;  Lord,  teach  us  to  pray. 

The  praying  Christ  teaches  us  to  pray  as  a  preparafiofi 
for  important  steps. 

Whilst  more  than  one  Gospel  tells  us  of  the  calling  of 
the  apostolic  twelve,  the  Gospel  of  the  manhood  alone 
narrates  (Luke  vd.  12)  that  on  the  eve  of  that  great  epoch 
in  tke  development  of  Christ's  kingdom,  "  He  went  ou{ 


THE  PRAYING  CHRIST.  S5 

into  a  mountain  to  pray,  and  continued  all  night  in 
prayer  to  God."  Then,  "  when  it  was  day,"  He  calls  to 
Him  His  disciples,  and  chooses  the  twelve.  A  similar 
instance  occurs,  at  a  later  period,  before  another  great 
epoch  in  His  course.  The  great  confession  made  by 
Peter,  "  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God," 
was  drawn  forth  by  our  Lord  to  serve  as  basis  for  His 
bestowment  on  the  apostles  of  large  spiritual  powers,  and 
for  the  teaching,  with  much  increased  detail  and  clear- 
ness, of  His  approaching  sufferings.  In  both  aspects  it 
distinctly  marks  a  new  stage.  Concerning  it,  too,  we  read, 
and  again  in  Luke  alone  (ix.  i8),  that  it  was  preceded  by 
solitary  prayer. 

Thus  He  teaches  us  where  and  how  we  may  get  the 
clear  insight  into  circumstances  and  men  that  may  guide 
us  aright.  Bring  your  plans,  your  purposes  to  God's 
throne.  Test  them  by  praying  about  them.  Do  nothing 
large  or  new — nothing  small  or  old  either,  for  that  matter 
— till  you  have  asked  there,  in  the  silence  of  the  secret 
place,  "Lord,  what  wouldest  Thou  have  me  to  do?" 
There  is  nothing  bitterer  to  parents  than  when  children 
begin  to  take  their  own  way  without  consulting  them. 
Do  you  take  counsel  of  your  Father,  and  have  no  secrets 
from  Him.  It  will  save  you  from  many  a  blunder  and 
many  a  heartache ;  it  will  make  your  judgment  clear,  and 
your  step  assured,  even  in  new  and  difficult  ways,  if  you 
will  learn  from  the  praying  Christ  to  pray  before  you 
plan,  and  take  counsel  of  God  before  you  act. 

Again,  the  praying  Christ  teaches  us  to  pray  as  the 
condition  of  receiving  the  Spirit  and  the  Brightness  of  God. 

There  were  two  occasions  in  the  life  of  Christ  when 
visible  signs  showed  His  full  possession  of  the  Divine 
Spirit,  and  the  lustre  of  His  glorious  nature.    There  are 


a6  THE  PRAYING  CHRIST. 

large  and  perplexing  questions  connected  with  both,  on 
which  I  have  no  need  no  enter.  At  His  baptism  the 
Spirit  of  God  descended  visibly  and  abode  on  Jesus.  At 
His  transfiguration  His  face  shone  as  the  light,  and  His 
garments  were  radiant  as  sunlit  snow.  Now,  on  both 
these  occasions,  our  Gospel,. and  our  Gospel  alone,  tells 
us  that  it  was  whilst  Christ  was  in  the  act  of  prayer  that 
the  sign  was  given :  "  Jesus  being  baptized,  and  praying, 
the  heaven  was  opened,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  descended  " 
(iii.  21,  22).  "As  He  prayed,  the  fashion  of  His  coun- 
tenance was  altered,  and  His  raiment  was  white  and 
glistening  "  (be.  29). 

Whatever  difficulty  may  surround  the  first  of  the^e 
narratives  especially,  one  thing  is  clear,  that  in  both  of 
them  there  was  a  true  communication  from  the  Father  to 
the  man  Jesus.  And  another  thing  is,  I  thmk,  clear,  too, 
that  our  EvangeUst  meant  to  lay  stress  on  the  precedmg 
act  as  the  human  condition  of  such  communication.  So, 
if  we  would  have  the  heavens  opened  over  our  heads, 
and  the  dove  of  God  descending  to  fold  its  white  wings, 
and  brood  over  the  chaos  of  our  hearts  till  order  and 
light  come  there,  we  must  do  what  the  Son  of  Man  did — 
pray.  And  if  we  would  have  the  fashion  of  our  coun- 
tenances altered,  the  wrinkles  of  care  wiped  out,  the  traces 
of  tears  dried  up,  the  blotches  of  unclean  living  healed, 
and  all  the  stamp  of  worldliness  and  evil  exchanged  for 
the  name  of  God  written  on  our  foreheads,  and  the  re- 
flected glory  irradiating  our  faces,  we  must  do  as  Christ 
did-  pray.  So,  and  only  so,  shall  God's  Spirit  fill  our 
hearts,  God's  brightness  flash  in  our  faces,  and  the  vesture 
of  heaven  clothe  our  nakedness. 

Again,  the  praying  Christ  teaches  us  to  prvjas  //4^/r^ 


THE  PRAYING  CHRIST.  27 

faration  for  sorrow.  Here  all  the  three  Evangelists 
tell  us  the  same  sweet  and  solemn  story.  It  is  not  for  us 
to  penetrate  further  than  they  carry  us  into  the  sanctities 
of  Gethsemane.  Jesus,  though  hungering  for  companion- 
ship in  that  awful  hour,  would  take  no  man  with  Him 
there ;  and  He  still  says,  *'  Tarry  ye  here,  while  I  go  and 
pray  yonder."  But  as  we  stand  afar  off  we  catch  the 
voice  of  pleading  rising  through  the  stilhiess  of  the  night, 
and  the  solemn  words  tell  us  of  a  Son's  confidence,  of  a 
man's  shrinking,  of  a  Saviour's  submission.  The  very 
spirit  of  all  prayer  is  in  these  broken  words.  That  was 
truly  "  The  Lord's  Prayer  "  which  He  poured  out  beneath 
the  olives  in  the  moonlight.  It  was  heard  when  strength 
came  from  heaven,  which  He  used  in  "  praying  more 
earnestly."  It  was  heard  when,  the  agony  past  and  all 
the  conflict  ended  in  victory,  He  came  forth,  with  that 
strange  calm  and  dignity,  to  give  Hunself  first  to  His 
captors  and  then  to  His  executioners,  the  ransom  for  the 
many. 

As  we  look  upon  that  agony  and  these  tearful  prayers, 
let  us  not  only  look  with  thankfulness,  but  let  that  kneel- 
ing Saviour  teach  us  that  in  prayer  alone  can  we  be  fore- 
armed against  our  lesser  sorrows ;  that  strength  to  bear 
flows  into  the  heart  that  is  opened  in  supplication;  and 
that  a  sorrow  which  we  are  made  able  to  endure  is  more 
truly  conquered  than  a  sorrow  which  we  avoid.  We  have 
all  a  cross  to  carry  and  a  wreath  of  thorns  to  wear.  If 
we  want  to  be  fit  for  our  Calvary — may  we  use  that  solenm 
name  ?  we  must  go  to  our  Gethsemane  first. 

So  the  Christ  who  prayed  on  earth  teaches  us  to  pray ; 
and  the  Christ  who  intercedes  in  heaven  helps  us  to  pray, 
and  presents  our  poor  cries,  acceptable   through  Hii 


a  THE   PRAYING   CHRIST. 

sacrifice,  and  fragrant  with  the  incense  fr.an  His  own 

golden  censer. 

' '  O  Thou  by  whom  we  come  to  Grod, 
The  Life,  the  Truth,  the  Way  ; 
Tlie  path  of  prayer  Thyself  h&st  trod  ; 
5vOrd  !  teach  us  how  to  pray. " 


IV. 

THE  ENCAMPING  ANGEL. 


Psalm  xxxiv.  7. 

The  .*.     .  I  of  the  Lord  encampeth  round  about  them  that  fear 
Him,  and  delivereth  them. 

TF  we  accept  the  statement  in  the  superscription  of  this 
Psalm,  it  dates  from  one  of  the  darkest  hours  in 
David's  hfe.  His  fortunes  were  never  lower  then  when 
he  fled  from  Gath,  the  city  of  Goliath,  to  Adullam.  He 
never  appears  in  a  less  noble  light  than  when  he  feigned 
madness  to  avert  the  dangers  which  he  might  well  dread 
there.  How  unlike  the  terror  and  self-degradation  of  the 
man  who  "  scrabbled  on  the  doors,"  and  let  "  the  spittle 
run  dowTi  his  beard,"  is  the  heroic  and  saintly  constancy 
of  this  noble  Psalm  !  And  yet  the  contrast  is  not  so 
violent  as  to  make  the  superscription  improbable.  And 
the  tone  of  the  whole  well  corresponds  to  what  we  should 
expect  from  a  man  delivered  from  some  great  peril,  but 
still  surrounded  with  dangers.  There,  in  the  safety  of  his 
retreat  among  the  rocks,  with  the  bit  of  level  ground 
where  he  had  fought  Goliath  just  at  his  feet  in  the  valley, 
and  Gath,  from  which  he  had  escaped,  away  down  at  the 
mouth  of  the  glen  (if  Lieutenant  Conder's  identification  of 
Adullam  be  correct),  he  sings  his  song  of  trust  and  praise; 


JB  THE  ENCAMPING  ANGEL, 

he  hears  the  lions  roar  among  the  rocks  where  Samsott 
had  found  them  in  his  day ;  he  teaches  his  **  children," 
the  band  of  broken  men  who  there  began  to  gather  around 
him,  the  fear  of  the  Lord ;  and  calls  upon  them  to  help 
him  in  his  praise.  What  a  picture  of  the  outlaw  and  his 
wild  followers  tamed  into  something  like  order,  and  lifted 
into  something  like  worship,  rises  before  us,  as  we  follow 
the  guidance  of  that  old  commentary  contained  in  the 
superscription. 

The  words  of  our  text  gain  especial  force  and  vividness 
by  thus  localizing  the  Psalm.  Not  only  "  the  clefts  of  the 
rock  "  but  the  presence  of  God's  Angel  are  his  defence .: 
and  round  him  is  flung,  not  only  the  strength  of  the  hills, 
but  the  garrison  and  guard  of  heaven. 

It  is  generally  supposed  that  the  "  Angel  of  the  Lord  " 
here  is  to  be  taken  collectively,  and  that  the  meaning  is 
—the  "bright-harnessed"  hosts  of  these  Divine  messengers 
are  as  an  army  of  protectors  round  them  who  fear  God. 
But  I  see  no  reason  for  departing  from  the  simpler  and 
certainly  grander  meaning  which  results  from  taking  the 
word  in  its  proper  force  of  a  singular.  True,  Scripture 
does  speak  of  the  legions  of  ministering  spirits,  who  in 
their  chariots  of  fire  were  once  seen  by  suddenly  opened 
eyes  "round  about"  a  prophet  in  peril,  and  are  ever 
ministering  to  the  heirs  of  salvation.  But  Scripture  also 
speaks  of  One,  who  is  in  an  eminent  sense  "  the  Angel  of 
the  Lord;"  in  whom,  as  in  none  other,  God  sets  His 
"  name ; "  whose  form,  dimly  seen,  towers  above  even  the 
ranks  of  the  angels  that  "  excel  in  strength ; "  whose  offices 
and  attributes  blend  in  mysterious  fashion  with  those  of 
God  Himself.  There  may  be  some  little  incongruity  ''n 
thinking  of  the  single  Person  as  "encamping  round  about" 
us ;  l))it  that  does  not  seem  a  sufficient  reason  for  obhter- 


THE  ENCAMPING  ANGEL.  31 

ating  the  reference  to  that  remarkable  Old  Testament 
doctrine,  the  retention  of  which  seems  to  me  to  add 
immensely  to  the  power  of  the  words. 

Remember  some  of  the  places  in  which  "  the  Angel  of 
the  Lord"  appears,  in  order  to  appreciate  more  fully  the 
grandeur  of  this  promised  protection.  At  that  supreme 
moment  when  Abraham  "  took  the  knife  to  slay  his  son," 
the  voice  that  "  called  to  him  out  of  heaven  "  was  "  the 
voice  of  the  Angel  of  the  Lord."  He  assumes  the  power 
of  reversing  a  Divine  command.  He  says,  "  Thou  hast 
not  withheld  thy  son,  thine  only  son,  from  Me"  and  then 
pronounces  a  blessing,  in  the  utterance  of  which  one  can- 
not distinguish  His  voice  from  the  voice  of  Jehovah.  In 
like  manner  it  is  the  Angel  of  the  Lord  that  speaks  to 
Jacob,  and  says,  "  I  am  the  God  of  Bethel."  The  dying 
patriarch  invokes  in  the  same  breath  "  the  God  which  fed 
me  all  my  life  long,"  "  the  Angel  which  redeemed  me  from 
all  evil,"  to  bless  the  boys  that  stand  before  him,  with 
their  wondering  eyes  gazing  in  awe  on  his  blind  face.  It 
was  that  Angel's  glory  that  appeared  to  the  outcast,  flaming 
in  the  bush  that  burned  unconsumed.  It  was  He  who 
stood  before  the  warrior  leader  of  Israel,  sword  in  hand, 
and  proclaimed  Himself  to  be  the  captain  of  the  Lord's 
host,  the  leader  of  the  armies  of  heaven,  and  the  true 
leader  of  the  armies  of  Israel ;  and  His  commands  to 
Joshua,  His  Heutenant,  are  the  commands  of  "  the  Lord;" 
and,  to  pass  over  other  instances,  Isaiah  correctly  sums  up 
the  spirit  of  the  whole  earlier  history  in  words  which  go 
far  to  lift  the  conception  of  this  Angel  of  the  Lord  out  of 
the  region  of  created  beings — "  In  all  their  affliction  He 
was  afflicted,  and  the  Angel  of  His  face  saved  them." 

It  is  this  lofty  and  mysterious  Messenger,  and  not  the 
hosts  whom  He  commands,  that  our  Psalmist  sees  stand- 


32  THE  ENCAMPING  ANGEL. 

ing  ready  to  help,  as  He  once  stood,  sword-bearing  by  the 
side  of  Joshua.  To  the  warrior  leader,  to  the  warrior 
Psalmist,  He  appears,  as  their  needs  required,  armoured 
and  militant.  The  last  of  the  prophets  saw  that  dim, 
mysterious  figure,  and  proclaimed,  "  The  Lord  whom  ye 
seek  shall  suddenly  come  to  His  temple;  even  the  Angel 
of  the  Covenant,  whom  ye  delight  in ; "  and  to  his  gaze  it 
was  wrapped  in  obscure  majesty  and  terror  of  purifying 
flame.  But  for  ui  the  true  messenger  of  the  Lord  is  His 
Son,  whom  He  has  sent,  in  whom  He  has  put  His  name  ; 
who  is  the  Angel  of  His  face,  in  that  we  behold  the  glory 
of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ ;  who  is  the  Angel  of 
the  Covenant,  in  that  He  has  sealed  the  new  and  ever- 
lasting covenant  with  His  blood  ;  and  whose  own  part- 
ing promise,  "  Lo  !  I  am  with  you  always,"  is  the  highest 
fulfilment  to  us  Christians  of  that  ancient  confidence : 
"  The  angel  of  the  Lord  encampeth  round  about  them 
that  fear  Him." 

Whatever  view  we  adopt  of  the  significance  of  the  first 
part  of  the  text,  the  force  and  beauty  of  the  metaphor  in 
the  second  remains  the  same.  If  this  Psalm  were  indeed 
the  work  of  the  fugitive  in  hics  rocky  hold  at  AduUam, 
how  appropriate  the  thought  becomes  that  his  little  en- 
campment has  such  a  guard.  It  reminds  one  of  the 
incident  in  Jacob's  life,  when  his  timid  and  pacific  nature 
was  trembling  at  the  prospect  of  meeting  Esau,  and 
when,  as  he  travelled  along,  encumbered  with  his  pastoral 
wealth,  and  scantily  provided  with  means  of  defence, 
"  the  Angels  of  God  met  him,  and  he  named  the  place 
Mahanaim,"  that  is,  two  camps, — his  own  feeble  company, 
mostly  made  up  of  women  and  children,  and  that  heavenly 
host  that  hovered  above  them.  David's  faith  sees  the 
same  defence  encircling  his  weakness,  and  though  sense 


THE  ENCAMPING  ANGEL.  33 

law  no  protection  for  him  and  his  men  but  their  own 
strong  arms  and  their  mountain  fastness,  his  opened  eyes 
beheld  the  mountain  full  of  the  chariots  of  fire,  and  the 
flashing  of  armour  and  light  in  the  darkness  of  his  cave. 

The  vision  of  the  Divine  presence  ever  takes  the  form 
which  our  circumstances  most  require.  David's  then 
need  was  safety  and  protection.  Therefore  he  saw  the 
Encamping  Angel ;  even  as  to  Joshua  the  leader  He  ap- 
peared as  the  Captain  of  the  Lord's  host ;  and  as  to  Isaiah, 
in  the  year  that  the  throne  of  Judah  was  emptied  by  the 
death  of  the  earthly  king,  was  given  the  vision  of  the 
Lord  sitting  on  a  throne,  the  King  Eternal  and  Immortal. 
So  to  us  all  His  grace  shapes  its  expression  according  to 
our  wants,  and  the  same  gift  is  Protean  in  its  power  of 
transformation;  being  to  one  man  wisdom,  to  another 
strength,  to  the  solitary  companionship,  to  the  sorrowfbl 
consolation,  to  the  glad  lobering,  to  the  thinker  truth, 
eo  the  worker  practical  force,— to  each  his  heart's  desire, 
if  the  heart's  delight  be  God.  So  manifold  are  the  aspects 
of  God's  infinite  sufficiency,  that  every  soul,  in  every 
possible  variety  of  circumstance,  will  find  there  just  what 
will  suit  it.  That  armour  fits  every  man  who  puts  it  on. 
That  deep  fountain  is  like  some  of  those  fabled  springs 
which  gave  forth  whatsoever  precious  draught  any  thirsty 
lip  asked.  He  takes  the  shape  that  our  circumstances 
most  need.  Let  us  see  that  we,  on  our  parts,  use  our 
circumstances  to  help  us  in  anticipating  the  shapes  in 
which  God  will  draw  near  for  our  help. 

Learn,  too,  from  this  image,  in  which  the  Psalmist  ap- 
propriates to  himself  the  experience  of  a  past  generation, 
how  we  ought  to  feed  our  confidence  and  enlarge  our 
hopes  by  all  God's  past  dealings  with  men.  David  looks 
bock  to  Jacob,  and  believes  that  the  old  fact  is  repeated 


$A  •  THE  ENCAMPING  ANGEU 

in  his  owii  day.  So  every  old  story  is  true  for  us ;  though 
outward  form  may  alter,  inward  substance  remains  the 
same.  Mahanaim  is  still  the  name  of  every  place  where 
a  man  who  loves  God  pitches  his  tent.  We  may  be 
wandering,  solitary,  defenceless,  but  we  are  not  alone. 
Our  feeble  encampment  may  lie  open  to  assault,  and  we 
be  all  unfit  to  guard  it,  but  the  other  camp  is  there  too, 
and  our  enemies  must  force  their  way  through  it  before 
they  get  at  us.  We  are  in  its  centre — as  they  put  the 
cattle  and  the  sick  in  the  midst  of  the  encampment  on 
the  prairies  when  they  fear  an  assault  from  the  Indians, — 
because  we  are  the  weakest.  Jacob's  experience  may  be 
ours :  *'  The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  with  us  :  the  God  of  Jacob 
is  our  refuge." 

Only  remember  that  the  eye  of  faith  alone  can  see  that 
guard,  and  that  therefore  we  must  labour  to  keep  our 
consciousness  of  its  reality  fresh  and  vivid.  Many  a  man 
in  David's  little  band  saw  nothing  but  cold  gray  stone 
where  David  saw  the  flashing  armour  of  the  heavenly 
warrior.  To  the  one  all  the  mountain  blazed  with  fiery 
chariots,  to  the  other  it  was  a  lone  hill-side,  with  the  wind 
moaning  among  the  rocks.  We  shall  lose  the  joy  and 
the  strength  of  that  Divine  protection  unless  we  honestly 
and  constantly  try  to  keep  our  sense  of  it  bright.  Eyes 
that  have  been  gazing  on  earthly  joys,  or  perhaps  gloat- 
ing on  evil  sights,  cannot  see  the  angel  presence.  A 
Christian  man,  on  a  road  which  he  cannot  travel  with  a 
clear  conscience,  will  see  no  angel,  not  even  the  Angel, 
with  the  drawn  sword  in  His  hand,  that  bars  Balaam's 
path  among  the  vineyards.  A  man  coming  out  of  some 
room  blazing  with  gas  cannot  all  at  once  see  into  the 
violet  depths  of  the  mighty  heavens,  that  lie  above  him 
with  Fil  their  shimmering  stars.     So  this  truth  of  our  text 


THE  ENCAMPING  ANGEL.  35 

is  a  trutli  of  faith,  and  the  believing  eye  alone  beholds 
the  Angel  of  the  Lord. 

Notice,  too,  that  final  word  of  deliverance.  This  Psalm 
k  continually  recurring  to  that  idea.  The  word  occurs 
fo*r  times  in  it,  and  the  thought  still  oftener.  Whether 
the  date  is  rightly  given,  as  we  have  assumed  it  to  be,  or 
not,  at  all  events  that  harping  upon  this  one  phrase  in- 
dicates that  some  season  of  great  trial  was  its  birth-time, 
when  all  the  writer's  thoughts  were  engrossed  and  his 
prayers  summed  up  in  the  one  thing— deliverance.  He 
is  quite  sure  that  such  deliverance  must  follow  if  the 
Angel  presence  be  there.  But  he  knows  too  that  the  en- 
campment of  the  Angel  of  the  Lord  will  not  keep  away 
sorrows,  and  trial,  and  sharp  need.  So  his  highest  hope 
is  not  of  immunity  from  these,  but  of  rescue  out  of  them. 
And  his  ground  of  hope  is  that  his  heavenly  ally  cannot 
let  him  be  overcome.  That  He  will  let  him  be  troubled 
and  put  in  peril  he  has  found ;  that  He  will  not  let  him 
be  crushed  he  believes.  Shaded  and  modest  hopes  are 
the  brightest  we  can  venture  to  cherish.  The  protection 
which  we  have  is  protection  in,  and  not  protection  from, 
strife  and  danger.  It  is  a  filter  which  lets  the  icy  cold 
water  of  sorrow  drop  numbing  upon  us,  but  keeps  back 
the  poison  that  was  in  it  We  have  to  fight,  but  He  will 
fight  with  us ;  to  sorrow,  but  not  alone  nor  without  hope  j 
to  pass  through  many  a  peril,  but  we  shall  get  through 
them.  Deliverance,  which  implies  danger,  need,  and 
woe,  is  the  best  we  can  hope  for. 

It  is  the  least  we  are  entitled  to  expect  if  we  love  Him. 
It  is  the  certain  issue  of  His  encamping  round  about  us. 
Always  with  us,  He  will  strike  for  us  at  the  best  moment 
"  The  Lord  God  is  in  the  midst  of  her  always ;  the  Lord 
will  help  her,  and  that  right  early."    So  like  the  hunted 


p  THE  ENCAMPING  ANGEL. 

fugitive  in  Adullam  we  may  lift  up  our  confident  voices 
even  when  the  stress  of  strife  and  sorrow  is  upon  us ;  and 
though  Gath  be  in  sight  and  Saul  just  over  the  hills,  and 
no  better  refuge  than  a  cave  in  a  hill-side ;  yet  in  pro- 
phecy built  upon  our  consciousness  that  the  Angel  of  the 
Covenant  is  with  us  now,  we  may  antedate  the  deliver- 
ance that  shall  be,  and  think  of  it  as  even  now  accom- 
plished. So  the  apostle,  when  within  sight  of  the  block 
and  the  headsman's  axe,  broke  into  the  rapture  of  his 
last  words  :  "  The  Lord  shall  deliver  me  from  every  evil 
work,  and  will  preserve  me  to  His  heavenly  kingdom :  to 
whom  be  glory  for  ever  and  ever.  Amen."  Wm  ht 
wrong? 


V. 

HEROIC  FAITH. 


Ezra  viii.  22,  23,  31,  32. 

I  wms  ashamed  to  require  of  the  king  a  band  of  soldiers  and  kone- 
men  to  help  us  against  the  enemy  in  the  way  ;  because  we  had 
spoken  unto  the  king,  saying,  The  hand  of  our  God  is  upon  all 
them  for  good  that  seek  him.  .  .  .  3o  we  fasted  and  besought 
our  God  for  this.  .  .  The  hand  of  our  God  was  upon  us,  and 
he  delivered  us  from  the  hand  of  the  enemy,  and  of  such  as  lay 
in  wait  by  the  way.     And  we  came  to  Jerusalem. 

T^HE  memory  of  Ezra  the  scribe  has  scarcely  had  fair 
'■'  play  among  Bible-reading  people.  True,  neither  his 
character  nor  the  incidents  of  his  life  reach  the  height  of 
interest  or  of  grandeur  belonging  to  the  earlier  men 
and  their  times.  He  is  no  hero,  or  prophet ;  only  a 
scribe  ;  there  is  a  certain  narrowness  as  well  as  a  prosaic 
turn  about  his  mind,  and  altogether  one  feels  that  he  is  a 
smaller  man  than  the  Elijahs  and  Davids  of  the  older 
days.  But  the  homely  garb  of  the  scribe  covered  a  very 
brave  devout  heart,  and  the  story  of  his  life  deserves  to 
be  more  familiar  to  us  than  it  is. 

This  scrap  from  the  account  of  his  preparations  for  the 
march  from  Babylon  to  Jerusalem  gives  us  a  glimpse  of 
high-toned  faith,  and  a  noble  strain  of  feeling.  He  and 
hif  company  had  a  long  weary  journey  of  four  monthi 


|i  HEROIC  FAITH, 

before  them.  They  had  had  little  experience  of  armi 
and  warfare,  or  of  hardships  and  desert  marches,  in  their 
Babylonian  homes.  Their  caravan  was  made  unwieldy 
and  feeble  by  the  presence  of  a  large  proportion  of  women 
and  children.  They  had  much  valuable  property  with 
them.  The  stony  desert,  which  stretches  unbroken  from 
the  Euphrates  to  the  uplands  on  the  East  of  Jordan,  was 
infested  then  as  now  by  wild  bands  of  marauders,  who 
might  easily  swoop  down  on  the  encumbered  march  of 
Ezra  and  his  men,  and  make  a  clean  sweep  of  all  which 
they  had.  And  he  knew  that  he  had  but  to  ask  and  have 
an  escort  from  the  king  that  would  ensure  their  safety 
till  they  saw  Jerusalem.  Artaxerxes'  surname,  "  the  long- 
handed,"  may  have  described  a  physical  peculiarity,  but 
it  also  expressed  the  reach  of  his  power ;  his  arm  could 
reach  these  wandering  plunderers,  and  if  Ezra  and  his 
troop  were  visibly  under  his  |»otcction,  they  could  march 
secure.  So  it  was  not  a  small  exercise  of  trust  in  a 
higher  hand  that  is  told  us  here  so  simply.  It  took  some 
strength  of  principle  to  abstain  from  asking  what  it  would 
have  been  so  natural  to  ask,  so  easy  to  get,  so  comfort- 
able to  have.  But,  as  he  says,  he  remembered  how  con- 
fidently he  had  spoken  of  God's  defence,  and  he  feels 
that  he  must  be  true  to  his  professed  creed,  even  if  it 
deprives  him  of  the  king's  guards.  He  halts  his  followers 
for  three  days  at  the  last  station  before  the  desert,  and 
there,  with  fasting  and  prayer,  they  put  themselves  in 
God  s  hand ;  and  then  the  band,  with  their  wives  and  little 
ones,  and  their  substance, — a  heavily-loaded  and  feeble 
caravan, — fling  themselves  into  the  dangers  of  the  long, 
dreary,  robber-haunted  march.  Did  not  the  scribe's  robe 
cover  as  brave  a  heart  as  ever  beat  beneath,  a  breait- 
plate? 


HEROIC  FAITH.  39 

That  symbolic  phrase,  "  the  hand  of  our  God,"  as  ex- 
pressive of  the  Divine  protection,  occurs  with  remarkable 
frequency  in  the  books  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah,  and 
though  not'  pecuUar  to  them,  is  yet  strikingly  character- 
istic of  them.  It  has  a  certain  beauty  and  force  of  its  own. 
The  hand  is  of  course  the  seat  of  active  power.  It  is  on 
or  over  a  man  like  some  great  shield  held  aloft  above  him, 
below  which  there  is  safe  hiding.  So  that  great  hand 
bends  itself  over  us,  and  we  are  secure  beneath  its  hollow. 
As  a  child  sometimes  carries  a  tender-winged  butterfly  in 
the  globe  of  its  two  hands  that  the  bloom  on  its  wings 
may  not  be  ruffled  by  its  fluttering,  so  He  carries  our 
feeble  unarmoured  souls  enclosed  in  the  covert  of  His 
Almighty  hand.  "  Who  hath  measured  the  waters  in  the 
hollow  of  His  hand  ?  "  "  \Vho  hath  gathered  the  wind  in 
His  fists  ?  "  In  that  curved  palm,  where  all  the  seas  lie 
as  a  very  little  thing,  we  are  held ;  the  grasp  that  keeps 
back  the  tempests  from  their  wild  rush,  keeps  us,  too, 
from  being  smitten  by  their  blast  As  a  father  may  lay 
his  ovm  large  muscular  hand  on  his  child's  tiny  fingers  to 
help  him,  or  as  "  Elisha  put  his  hands  on  the  king's 
hands,"  that  the  contact  might  strengthen  him  to  shoot 
the  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance,  so  the  hand  of  our 
God  is  upon  us  to  impart  power  as  well  as  protection  ; 
and  our  **  bow  abides  in  strength,"  when  "  the  arms  of 
our  hands  are  made  strong  by  the  hands  of  the  mighty 
God  of  Jacob."  That  was  Ezra's  faith,  and  that  should 
be  ours. 

Note  Ezra's  sensitive  shrinking  from  anything  like  in 
consistency  between  his  creed  and  his  practice.  It  was 
easy  to  talk  about  God's  protection  when  he  was  safe 
behind  the  walls  of  Babylon;  but  now  the  push  had 
come.     There  was  a  real  danger  before  him  and  hit  OB- 


^  HEROIC  FAITH. 

warlike  followers.  No  doubt,  too,  there  were  plenty  of 
people  who  would  have  been  delighted  to  catch  him 
tripping ;  and  he  felt  that  his  cheeks  would  have  tingled 
with  shame  if  they  had  been  able  to  say,  "  Ah !  that  is 
what  all  his  fine  professions  come  to,  is  it  ?  He  wants  a 
convoy,  does  he  ?  We  thought  as  much.  It  is  always  so 
with  these  people  who  talk  in  that  style.  They  are  just 
like  the  rest  of  us  when  the  pinch  comes."  So,  with  a 
high  and  keen  sense  of  what  was  required  by  his  avowed 
principles,  he  will  have  no  guards  for  the  road.  There 
was  a  man  whose  religion  was,  at  any  rate,  not  a  fair- 
weather  religion.  It  did  not  go  oflf  in  fine  speeches  about 
trusting  to  the  protection  of  God,  spoken  from  behind  the 
skirts  of  the  king,  or  from  the  middle  of  a  phalanx  of  his 
soldiers.  He  clearly  meant  what  he  said,  and  believed 
every  word  of  it  as  a  prose  fact,  which  was  solid  enough  to 
build  conduct  on. 

I  am  afraid  a  great  many  of  us  would  rather  have  tried 
to  reconcile  our  asking  for  a  band  of  horsemen  with  our 
professed  trust  in  God's  hand ;  and  there  would  have 
been  plenty  of  excuses  very  ready  about  using  means  as 
well  as  exercising  faith,  and  not  being  called  upon  to 
abandon  advantages,  and  not  pushing  a  good  principle  to 
Quixotic  lengths,  and  so  on,  and  so  on.  But  whatever 
truth  there  is  in  such  considerations,  at  any  rate,  we  may 
well  learn  the  lesson  of  this  story — to  be  true  to  our  pro- 
fessed principles ;  to  beware  of  making  our  religion  a 
matter  of  words ;  to  live,  when  the  time  for  putting  them 
into  practice  comes,  by  the  maxims  which  we  have  been 
forward  to  proclaim  when  there  was  no  risk  in  applying 
them  j  and  to  try  sometimes  to  look  at  our  lives  with  the 
tyes  of  people  who  do  not  share  our  faith,  that  we  may 
hriog  oar  actions  up  to  the  mark  of  what  thqr  expect  of 


HEROIC  FAITH.  4I 

US.  If  "  the  Church  "  would  oftener  think  of  what  **  tht 
world  "  looks  for  from  it,  it  would  seldoraer  have  cause 
to  be  ashamed  of  the  terrible  gap  between  its  words  and 
its  deeds. 

Especially  in  regard  to  this  matter  of  trust  in  an  unseen 
hand,  and  reliance  on  visible  helps,  we  all  need  to  be 
very  rigid  in  our  self-inspection.  Faith  in  the  good  hand 
of  God  upon  us  for  good  should  often  lead  to  the  aban- 
donment, and  always  to  the  subordination,  of  material 
aids.  It  is  a  question  of  detail,  which  each  man  must 
settle  for  himself  as  each  occasion  arises,  whether  in  any 
given  case  abandonment  or  subordination  is  our  duty. 
This  is  not  the  place  to  enter  on  so  large  and  difficult  a 
question.  But,  at  all  events,  let  us  remember,  and  try  to 
work  into  our  own  lives,  that  principle  which  the  easy- 
going Christianity  of  this  day  has  honey-combed  with  so 
many  exceptions,  that  it  scarcely  has  any  whole  surface 
left  at  all ;  that  the  absolute  surrender  and  forsaking  of 
external  helps  and  goods  is  sometimes  essential  to  the 
preservation  and  due  expression  of  reliance  on  God. 

There  is  very  little  fear  of  any  of  us  pushing  that  prin- 
ciple to  Quixotic  lengths.  The  danger  is  all  the  other 
way.  So  it  is  worth  while  to  notice  that  we  have  here  an 
instance  of  a  man's  being  carried  by  a  certain  lofty  en- 
thusiasm further  than  the  mere  law  of  duty  would  take 
him.  There  would  have  been  no  harm  in  Ezra's  asking 
an  escort,  seeing  that  his  whole  enterprise  was  made 
possible  by  the  king's  support.  He  would  not  have  been 
**  lea-ing  on  an  arm  of  flesh  "  by  availing  himself  of  the 
roya»  .roops,  any  more  than  when  he  used  the  royal 
til  man.  But  a  true  man  often  feels  that  he  cannot  do 
the  things  which  he  might  without  sin  do.  "  All  things 
are  lawful  for  me,  but  all  things  are  not  expedient,"  said 


4S  HEROIC  FAITH. 

Paul.  And  the  same  apostle  eagerly  contended  that  he 
had  a  perfect  right  to  money  support  from  the  Gentile 
Churches ;  and  then,  in  the  next  breath,  flamed  up  into, 
"  I  have  used  none  of  these  things,  for  it  were  better  for 
me  to  die,  than  that  any  man  should  make  my  glorying 
void."  A  sensitive  spirit,  or  one  profoundly  stirred  by 
religious  emotion,  will,  like  the  apostle  whose  feet  were 
moved  by  love,  far  outrun  the  slower  soul,  whose  steps 
are  only  impelled  by  the  thought  of  duty.  Better  that 
the  cup  should  run  over  than  that  it  should  not  be  full. 
Where  we  delight  to  do  His  will,  there  will  often  be  more 
than  a  scrupulously  regulated  enough ;  and  where  there  is 
not  sometimes  that  "  more,"  there  will  never  be  enough. 

"  Give  all  thou  canst ;  high  Heaven  rejects  the  lore 
Of  nicely  calculated  less  or  more." 

What  shall  we  say  of  people  who  profess  that  God  is 
their  portion,  and  are  as  eager  in  the  scramble  for  money 
as  anybody  ?  What  kind  of  a  commentary  will  sharp- 
sighted,  sharp-tongued  observers  have  a  right  to  make  on 
us,  whose  creed  is  so  unlike  theirs,  while  our  lives  are 
identical  ?  Do  you  believe,  friends,  that  "  the  hand  of 
our  God  is  upon  all  them  for  good  that  seek  him "  ? 
Then,  do  you  not  think  that  racing  after  the  prizes  of 
this  world,  with  flushed  cheeks  and  labouring  breath,  or 
longing,  with  a  gnawing  hunger  of  heart,  for  any  earthly 
good,  or  lamenting  over  the  removal  of  creatural  defences 
and  joys,  as  if  heaven  were  empty  because  some  one's 
place  here  is,  or  as  if  God  were  dead  because  dear  ones 
die,  may  well  be  a  shame  to  us,  and  a  taunt  on  the  lips 
of  our  enemies.  Let  us  learn  again  the  lesson  from  this 
old  story, — that  if  our  faith  in  God  is  not  the  veriest  sham, 
it  demands  and  will  produce,  the  abandonment  some 


HEROIC  FAITH.  43 

times,  the  subordination  always,  of  external  helps  and 

material  good. 

Notice,  too,  Ezra's  preparation  for  receiving  the  Divine 
Help.  There,  by  the  river  Ahava,  he  halts  his  company 
like  a  prudent  leader,  to  repair  omissions,  and  put  the 
last  touches  to  their  organization  before  facing  the  wilder- 
ness. But  he  has  another  purpose  also.  "  I  proclaimed 
a  fast  there,  to  seek  of  God  a  right  way  for  us."  There 
was  no  fool-hardiness  in  his  courage ;  he  was  well  aware 
of  all  the  possible  dangers  on  the  road ;  and  whilst  he  is 
confident  of  the  Divine  protection,  he  knows  that,  in  his 
own  quiet,  matter-of-fact  words,  it  is  given  "  to  all  them 
that  seek  Him."  So  his  faith  not  only  impels  him  to 
the  renunciation  of  the  Babylonian  guard,  but  to  earnest 
supplication  for  the  defence  in  which  he  is  so  confident 
He  is  sure  it  will  be  given — so  sure,  that  he  will  have  no 
other  shield  j  and  yet  he  fasts  and  prays  that  he  and  his 
company  may  receive  it.  He  prays  because  he  is  sure 
that  he  will  receive  it,  and  does  receive  it  because  he 
prays  and  is  sure 

So  for  us,  the  condition  and  preparation  on  and  by 
which  we  are  sheltered  by  that  great  hand,  is  the  faith 
that  asks,  and  the  asking  of  faith.  We  must  forsake  the 
earthly  props,  but  we  must  also  believingly  desire  to  be 
upheld  by  the  heavenly  arms.  We  make  God  responsible 
for  our  safety  when  we  abandon  other  defence,  and  com- 
mit ourselves  to  Him.  With  eyes  open  to  our  dangers, 
and  fuH  consciousness  of  our  own  unarmed  and  unwarlike 
weakness,  let  us  solenmly  commend  ourselves  to  Him, 
rolling  all  our  burden  on  His  strong  arms,  knowing  that 
He  is  able  to  keep  that  which  we  have  committed  to 
Him.  He  will  accept  the  trust,  and  set  His  guards  about 
WL     Ai  the  song  of  the  returning  exiles,  which  maj 


44  HEROIC  FAITH. 

have  been  sung  by  the  river  Ahava,  has  it :  "  My  help 
Cometh  from  the  Lord.  The  Lord  is  thy  keeper.  The 
Lord  is  thy  shade  upon  thy  right  hand." 

So  our  story  ends  with  the  triumphant  vindication  ot 
this  Quixotic  faith.  A  flash  of  joyful  feeling  breaks 
through  the  simple  narrative,  as  it  tells  how  the  words 
spoken  before  the  king  came  true  in  the  experience  of 
the  weaponless  pilgrims :  "  The  hand  of  our  God  was 
upon  us,  and  He  delivered  us  from  the  hand  of  the 
enemy,  and  of  such  as  lay  in  wait  by  the  way ;  and  we 
came  to  Jerusalem."  It  was  no  rash  venture  that  we 
made.  He  was  all  that  we  hoped  and  asked.  Through 
all  the  weary  march  He  led  us.  From  the  wild,  desert- 
bom  robbers,  that  watched  us  from  afar,  ready  to  come 
down  on  us,  from  ambushes  and  hidden  perils,  He  kept 
us,  because  we  had  none  other  help,  and  all  our  hope  was 
in  Him.  The  ventures  of  faith  are  ever  rewarded.  We 
cannot  set  our  expectations  from  God  too  high.  What 
we  dare  scarcely  hope  now  we  shall  one  day  remember. 
When  we  come  to  tell  the  completed  story  of  our  lives, 
we  shall  have  to  record  the  fulfilment  of  all  God's  pro- 
mises, and  the  accomplishment  of  all  our  prayers  that 
were  built  on  these.  Here  let  us  cry,  **  Be  Thy  hand  upon 
us."  Here  let  us  trust  Thy  hand  shall  be  upon  us.  Then 
we  shall  have  to  say,  "  The  hand  of  our  Giod  was  upon  us." 
And  as  we  look  from  the  watch-towers  of  the  city,  on  the 
desert  that  stretches  to  its  very  walls,  and  remember  all 
the  way  by  which  He  led  us,  we  shall  rejoice  over  His 
vindication  of  our  poor  faith,  and  praise  Him  that  "  not 
one  thing  hath  failed  of  all  the  thingg  which  the  Lord 
our  God  spake  concerning  us." 


VI. 

THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  PILGRIM   PRIESTS 


Ezra  viii.  29. 


Watch  ye,  and  keep  ih^m,  until  ye  \f  eigh  />W»»  ...  at  Jerusalen^ 
in  the  chambers  of  the  house  of  the  Lord. 

'T^HE  little  band  of  Jews,  seventeen  hundred  in  number, 
"*■  returning  from  Babylon,  had  just  started  on  that  long 
pilgrimage,  and  made  a  brief  halt  in  order  10  ;^et  every- 
thing in  order  for  their  transit  across  the  ciesert  when 
their  leader,  Ezra,  taking  count  of  his  men  discovers 
that  amongst  them  there  are  none  of  the  priests  or 
Levites.  He  then  takes  measures  to  reinforce  lus  little 
army  with  a  contingent  of  these,  and  entrusts  to  their 
special  care  a  very  valuable  treasure  in  gold,  and  silver, 
and  sacrificial  vessels,  which  had  been  given  to  them  for 
use  in  the  house  of  the  Lord.  The  words  which  I  have 
read  to  you  are  a  portion  of  the  charge  which  he  gave  to 
those  twelve  priestly  guardians  of  the  precious  things, 
that  were  to  be  used  in  worship  when  they  got  back  to 
the  Temple.  "  Watch  and  keep  them,  until  ye  weigh 
them  in  the  chambers  of  the  house  of  the  Lord." 

So  I  think  I  may  venture,  without  being  unduly  fanci- 
kl,  to  take  these  words  as  a  type  of  the  injunctions  which 
are  given  to  us  Christian  people ;  and  to  see  in  them  a 


46        THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  PILGRIM  PRIESTS. 

Striking  and  picturesque  representation  of  the  duties  that 
devolve  upon  us  in  the  course  of  our  journey  across  the 
desert  to  the  Temple-Home  above. 

And,  to  begin  with,  let  me  remind  you,  for  a  moment 
or  two,  what  the  precious  treasure  is  which  is  thus  en- 
trusted to  our  keeping  and  care.  We  can  scarcely,  in 
such  a  connection  and  with  such  a  metaphor,  forget  the 
words  of  our  Lord  about  a  certain  king  that  went  to 
receive  his  kingdom,  and  to  return  ;  who  called  together 
his  servants,  and  gave  to  each  of  them  according  to  their 
several  ability,  with  the  injunction  to  trade  upon  that 
until  he  came.  The  same  metaphor  which  our  Master 
employed  lies  in  this  story  before  us, — in  the  one  case, 
sacrificial  vessels  and  sacred  treasm^es ;  in  the  other  case, 
the  talents  out  of  the  rich  possessions  of  the  departing 
king. 

Nor  can  we  forget,  either,  the  other  phase  of  the  same 
figure^  which  the  Apostle  employs  when  he  says  to  his 
"  own  son  "  and  substitute,  Timothy ;  "  That  good  thing 
which  was  committed  unto  thee,  keep  by  the  Holy  Ghost 
which  dwelleth  in  us."  Nor  that  other  word  to  the  same 
Timothy,  which  says  :  "  O  Timothy,  keep  that  which  was 
committed  to  thy  trust,  and  avoid  profane  and  vain 
babblings,  and  oppositions  of  science,  falsely  so  called." 

In  these  quotations,  the  treasure,  and  the  rich  deposit, 
is  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints;  the  solemn 
message  of  love  and  peace  in  Jesus  Christ,  which  was 
entrusted,  first  of  all  to  those  preachers,  but  as  truly  to 
every  one  of  Christ's  disciples. 

So,  then,  the  metaphor  is  capable  of  two  applications. 
The  first  is  to  the  rich  treasure  and  solemn  trust  of  our 
own  nature,  of  our  own  souls  ;  the  faculties  and  capacities, 
I»ecious  beyond  all  count,  rich  beyond  all  else  that  a 


THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  PILGRIM  PRIESTS.        47 

man  has  ever  received.  Nothing  that  you  have  is  half 
so  much  as  that  which  you  are.  The  possession  of  a  soul 
that  knows  and  loves,  and  can  obey;  that  trusts  and 
desires;  that  can  yearn  and  reach  out  to  Jesus  Christ,  and 
to  God  in  Christ ;  of  a  conscience  that  can  yield  to  His 
command;  and  faculties  of  comprehending  and  under- 
standing what  comes  to  them  from  Jesus  Christ — that  is 
more  than  any  other  possession,  treasure,  or  trust.  That 
which  you  and  I  carry  with  us, — the  infinite  possibilities  of 
these  awful  spirits  of  ours, — the  tremendous  faculties  which 
are  given  to  every  human  soul,  and  which,  like  a  candle 
plunged  into  oxygen,  are  meant  to  burn  far  more  brightly 
under  the  stimulus  of  Christian  faith  and  the  possession 
of  God's  truth,  are  the  rich  deposit  committed  to  our 
charge.  You  priests  of  the  living  God  !  you  men  and 
women,  who  say  that  you  are  Christ's,  and  therefore  are 
consecrated  to  a  nobler  priesthood  than  any  other — to 
you  is  given  this  solemn  charge  :  "  That  good  thing  which 
is  committed  unto  thee,  keep  by  the  Holy  Ghost  that 
dwelleth  in  you."  The  precious  treasure  of  your  own 
natures,  your  own  hearts,  your  own  understandings,  wills, 
consciences,  desires — keep  these,  until  they  are  weighed 
in  the  house  of  the  Lord  in  Jerusalem. 

And  in  like  manner,  taking  the  other  aspect  of  the 
metaphor — we  have  given  to  us,  in  order  that  we  may  do 
something  with  it,  that  great  deposit  and  treasure  of  truth, 
which  is  all  embodied  and  incarnated  in  Jesus  Christ  our 
Lord.  It  is  bestowed  upon  us  that  we  may  use  it  for  our- 
selves, and  in  order  that  we  may  carry  it  triumphantly  all 
through  the  world.  Possession  involves  responsibility 
always.  The  word  of  salvation  is  given  to  us.  If  we 
go  tampering  with  it,  by  erroneous  apprehension,  by  un- 
Uir  »jsage,  by  failing  to  apply  it  to  our  own  daily  lifej 


4S       THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  PILGRIM  PRIESTS. 

then  it  will  fade  and  disappear  from  our  grasp.  It  ia 
given  to  us  in  order  that  we  may  keep  it  safe,  and  carry 
it  high  up,  across  the  desert,  as  becomes  the  priests  of  the 
most  high  God. 

The  treasure  is  first — our  own  selves, — with  all  that  we 
are  and  may  be,  under  the  stimulating  and  quickening 
influence  of  His  grace  and  spirit.  The  treasure  is  next — 
His  great  word  of  salvation,  once  delivered  unto  the  saints, 
and  to  be  handed  on,  without  diminution  or  alteration  in 
its  fair  perspective  and  manifold  harmonies,  to  the  genera- 
tions that  are  to  come.  So,  think  of  yourselves  as  the 
priests  of  God,  journeying  through  the  wilderness,  with 
the  treasures  of  the  temple  and  the  vessels  of  the  sacri- 
fice for  your  special  deposit  and  charge. 

Well,  then,  a  word  next  as  to  the  command^  the  guardian- 
ship that  is  here  set  forth.  "  Watch  ye,  and  keep  them." 
That  is  to  say,  I  suppose,  according  to  the  ordinary 
idiom  of  the  Old  Testament,  Watch,  in  order  that  you  may 
keep.  Or  to  translate  it  into  other  words  :  The  treasure 
which  is  given  into  our  hands  requires,  for  its  safe  preserv- 
ation, unceasing  vigilance.  Take  the  picture  of  my  text : 
These  Jews  were  four  months,  according  to  the  narrative, 
in  travelling  from  their  first  station  upon  their  journey  up 
to  Jerusalem  across  the  desert.  There  were  enemies 
lying  in  wait  for  them  by  the  way.  With  noble  self- 
restraint  and  grand  chivalry,  the  leader  of  the  little  band 
says  :  "  I  was  ashamed  to  require  of  the  king  a  band  of 
soldiers  and  horsemen,  to  help  us  against  the  enemy  in  the 
way ;  because  we  had  spoken  unto  the  king,  saying. 
The  hand  of  our  God  is  upon  all  them  for  good  that 
seek  Him ;  but  His  power  and  His  wrath  is  against  all 
that  forsake  Him."  And  so  they  would  not  go  to  him, 
cap  in  hand,  and  ask  him  to  give  them  a  guard  to  take 


THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  PILGRIM  PRIESTS.         49 

care  of  them ;  but  "  We  fasted  and  besought  our  God  for 
this  ;  and  He  was  intreated  of  us." 

Thus  the  little  company,  without  arms,  without  protec- 
tion, with  nothing  but  a  prayer  and  a  trust  to  make  them 
strong,  flung  themselves  into  the  pathless  desert  with  all 
those  precious  things  in  their  possession ;  and  all  the  pre- 
caution which  Ezra  took  was  to  lay  hold  of  the  priests  in 
the  little  party,  and  to  say  :  "  Here !  all  through  the  march 
do  you  stick  by  these  precious  things.  Whoever  sleeps, 
do  you  watch.  Whoever  is  careless,  be  you  vigilant. 
Take  these  for  your  charge,  and  remember  I  weigh  them 
here  before  we  start,  and  they  will  be  all  weighed  again 
when  we  get  there.     So  bethink  yourselves." 

And  is  not  that  exactly  what  Christ  says  to  us  ? 
'*  Watch ;  keep  them ;  be  vigilant,  that  ye  may  keep  ;  and 
keep  them,  because  they  will  be  weighed  and  registered 
when  you  arrive  there." 

I  cannot  do  more  than  touch  upon  two  or  three  of  the 
ways  in  which  this  charge  may  be  worked  out,  in  its  ap- 
plication for  ourselves,  beginning  with  that  first  one  which 
is  implied  in  the  words  ot  the  text — unslumbering  vigil- 
ance;  then  trusty  like  the  trust  which  is  glorified  in  the 
context,  depending  only  on  **  the  good  hand  of  our  God 
upon  us  ; "  then  purity  ^  because,  as  Ezra  said,  "Ye  are 
holy  unto  the  Lord.  The  vessels  are  holy  also ; "  and 
therefore  ye  are  the  fit  persons  to  guard  them.  And 
besides  that,  there  is  m  our  keeping  our  trust,  a  method 
which  does  not  apply  to  the  incident  before  us  \  namely, 
uscy  in  order  to  their  preservation. 

That  is  to  say,  first  of  all,  no  slumber ;  not  a  moment's 
relaxation ;  or  some  of  those  who  lie  in  wait  for  us  on  the 
way  will  be  down  upon  us,  and  some  of  the  preciouf 
things  will  go.     While  all  the  rest  of  the  wearied  camp 


5C        THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  PILGRIM  PRIESTS. 

slept,  the  guardians  of  the  treasure  had  to  outwatch 
the  stars.  While  others  might  straggle  on  the  march, 
lingering  here  or  there,  or  resting  on  some  patch  of 
green,  they  had  to  close  up  round  their  precious  charge  ; 
others  might  let  their  eyes  wander  from  the  path,  they 
had  ever  to  look  to  their  care.  For  them  the  journey 
had  a  double  burden,  and  unslumbering  vigilance  was 
their  constant  duty. 

We  likewise  have  unslumberingly  and  ceaselessly  to 
watch  over  that  which  is  committed  to  our  charge.  For, 
depend  upon  it,  if  for  an  instant  we  turn  away  our  heads, 
the  thievish  birds  that  flutter  over  us  will  be  down  upon 
the  precious  seed  that  is  in  our  basket,  or  that  we  have 
sown  in  the  furrows,  and  it  will  be  gone.  Watch,  that  ye 
may  keep. 

And  then,  still  further,  see  how  in  this  story  before  us 
there  are  brought  out  very  picturesquely,  and  very  simply, 
deeper  lessons  still.  It  is  not  enough  that  a  man  shall  be 
for  ever  keeping  his  eye  upon  his  own  character  and  his 
own  faculties,  and  seeking  sedidously  to  cultivate  and 
improve  them,  as  he  that  must  give  an  account.  There 
must  be  another  look  than  that.  Ezra  said,  in  effect,  "  Not 
all  the  cohorts  of  Babylon  can  help  us  j  and  we  do  not 
want  them.  We  have  one  strong  hand  that  will  keep  us 
safe;"  and  so  he,  and  his  men,  with  all  this  mass  of 
wealth,  so  temptmg  to  the  wild  robbers  that  haunted  the 
road,  flung  themselves  into  the  desert,  knowing  that  all 
along  it  there  were,  as  he  says,  "  such  as  lay  in  wait  for 
them."  His  confidence  was :  "  God  will  bring  us  all  safe 
out  to  the  end  there ;  and  we  shall  carry  every  glittering 
piece  of  the  precious  things  that  we  brought  out  of 
Babylon  right  into  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem."  Yet  he 
says,  "  Watch  ye  and  keep  them." 


THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  PILGRIM   PRIESTS.        51 

What  does  that  come  to  in  reference  to  our  religious 
experience  ?  ^Vhy  this  :  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation 
with  fear  and  trembling ;  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in 
you,  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  own  great  pleasure." 
You  do  not  need  these  external  helps.  Fling  yourself 
wholly  upon  His  keeping  hand,  and  also  watch  and  keep 
yourselves.  "  I  know  in  whom  I  have  believed,  and  that 
He  is  able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed  unto 
Him  against  that  day,"  is  the  complement  of  the  other 
words,  "That  good  thing  which  was  committed  unto 
thee,  keep  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 

So  guardianship  is,  first,  unceasing  vigilance ;  and  then 
it  is  lowly  trust  And  besides  that,  it  is  punctilious 
purity.  "  I  said  unto  them.  Ye  are  holy  unto  the  Lord ; 
the  vessels  are  holy  unto  the  Lord.  Watch  ye,  and  keep 
them." 

It  was  fitting  that  the  priests  should  carry  the  things 
that  belonged  to  the  Temple.  No  other  hands  but  con- 
secrated hands  had  a  right  to  touch  them.  To  none 
other  guardianship  but  the  guardianship  of  the  possessors 
of  a  symbolic  and  ceremonial  purity,  could  the  vessels 
of  a  symbolic  and  ceremonial  worship  be  entrusted ;  and 
to  none  others  but  the  possessors  of  real  and  spiritual 
holiness  can  the  treasures  of  the  true  Temple,  of  an 
inward  and  spiritual  worship,  be  entrusted.  "  Be  ye  clean 
that  bear  the  vessels  of  the  Lord,"  said  Isaiah  long  after. 
The  only  way  to  keep  our  treasure  undiminished  and 
untarnished,  is  to  keep  ourselves  pure  and  clean. 

And,  lastly,  we  have  to  exercise  a  guardianship  which 
is  not  only  unslumbcring  vigilance,  lowly  trust,  punctilioua 
purity,  but  also  requires  the  constant  usi  of  the  treasure, 

"Watch  ye,  and  keep  them."  Although  the  vcsseli 
iHiica  those  priests  bore  through  the  desert  were  used  fat 


S$        THE  CHARGE  OF  THE  PILGRIM  PRIESTS. 

no  service  during  all  the  weary  march,  they  weighed  jus^ 
the  same  when  they  got  to  the  end  as  at  the  beginning 
though,  no  doubt,  even  their  fine  gold  had  become  dim 
and  tarnished  through  disuse.  But  if  we  do  not  use  the 
vessels  that  are  entrusted  to  our  care,  //^  will  not  weigh 
the  same.  The  man  that  wrapped  up  his  talent  in  the 
napkin,  and  said,  "  Lo,  there  thou  hast  that  is  thine,"  was 
too  sanguine.  There  was  never  an  unused  talent  rolled 
up  in  a  handkerchief  yet,  but  when  it  was  taken  out  and 
put  into  the  scales  it  was  lighter  than  when  it  was  com- 
mitted to  the  keeping  of  the  earth.  Gifts  that  are  used 
fructify.  Capacities  that  are  strained  to  the  uttermost 
increase.  Service  strengthens  the  power  of  service ;  and 
just  as  the  reward  of  work  is  more  work,  the  way  for 
making  ourselves  fit  for  bigger  things  is  to  do  the  things 
that  are  lying  by  us.  The  blacksmith's  arm,  the  sailor's 
eye,  the  organs  of  any  piece  of  handicraft,  as  we  all  know, 
are  strengthened  by  exercise  ;  and  so  it  is  in  this  higher 
region. 

And  so,  dear  brethren,  take  these  four  words — ^vigilance, 
trust,  purity,  exercise.  Watch  ye,  and  keep  them,  until 
they  are  weighed  in  the  chambers  of  the  House  of  the 
Lord. 

And,  lastly,  think  of  that  weighing  in  the  House  of  the 
Lord.  Cannot  you  see  the  picture  of  the  little  band 
when  they  finally  reach  the  goal  of  their  pilgrimage ;  and 
three  days  after  they  arrived,  as  the  narrative  tells  us, 
went  up  into  the  Temple,  and  there,  by  number  and 
by  weight,  rendered  up  their  charge,  and  were  clear  of 
their  responsibility?  "  And  the  first  came  and  said.  Lord, 
thy  pound  hath  gained  ten  pounds.  And  he  said.  Well, 
thou  good  servant,  because  thou  hast  been  feiithful  in  a 
Tcry  little,  have  thou  authority  over  ten  cities." 


THE  CHARCE  OF  THE  PILGRIM    PRIESTS.         53 

Oh,  how  that  thought  of  the  day  when  they  would 
•mpty  out  the  rich  treasure  upon  the  marble  pavement,  and 
clash  the  golden  vessels  into  the  scales,  must  have  filled 
their  hearts  with  vigilance  during  all  the  weary  watches, 
when  desert  stars  looked  down  upon  the  slumbering 
encampment,  and  they  paced  wakeful  all  the  night. 
And  how  the  thought,  too,  must  have  filled  their  hearts 
with  joy,  when  they  tried  to  picture  to  themselves  the 
sigh  of  satisfaction  and  the  sense  of  relief  with  which, 
after  all  the  perils,  their  "  feet  would  stand  within  thy 
gates,  O  Jerusalem,"  and  they  would  be  able  to  say, 
"  That  which  thou  hast  given  me  I  have  kept,  and  nothing 
of  it  is  lost." 

A  lifetime  would  be  a  small  expenditure  to  secure  that ; 
And  though  it  cannot  be  that  you  and  I  shall  meet  the 
trial  and  the  weighing  of  that  great  day  without  many  a 
law  and  much  loss,  yet  we  may  say  :  "  I  know  in  whom 
I  have  believed,  and  that  He  is  able  to  keep  my  deposit — 
whether  it  be  in  the  sense  of  that  which  I  have  committed 
unto  Him,  or  in  the  sense  of  that  which  He  has  com- 
mitted unto  me — against  that  day."  We  may  hope  that, 
by  His  gracious  help  and  His  pitying  acceptance,  even 
such  careless  stewards  and  negligent  watchmen  as  we 
are,  may  lay  ourselves  down  in  peace  at  the  last,  saying, 
"  I  have  kept  the  faith  ; "  and  may  be  awakened  by  the 
word,  "  W'*^!  done,  good  and  faithful  servant" 


VII 

CHIIST'S  LAMENT  OVER  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS 


Mark  ix.  19. 

He  answereth  him,  &nd  s&ith,  O  faithless  generation,  how  long  shall 
I  be  with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I  suflfer  you  ? 

npHERE  is  a  very  evident,  and,  I  think,  intentional 
-■-  contrast  between  the  two  scenes,  of  the  transfigura- 
tion, and  of  this  healing  of  the  maniac  boy.  And  in 
nothing  is  the  contrast  more  marked  than  in  the  de- 
meanour of  these  enfeebled  and  unbeheving  apostles,  as 
contrasted  with  the  rapture  of  devotion  of  the  other 
three,  and  with  the  lowly  submission  and  faith  of  Moses 
and  Elias.  Perhaps,  too,  the  difference  between  the 
calm  serenity  of  the  mountain,  and  the  hell-tortured 
misery  of  the  plain — between  the  converse  with  the 
sainted  perfected  dead,  and  the  converse  with  their  un- 
worthy successors — made  Christ  feel  more  sharply  and 
poignantly  than  He  ordinarily  did  His  disciples*  slowness 
of  apprehension  and  want  of  faith.  At  any  rate,  it  does 
strike  one  as  remarkable  that  the  only  occasion  on  which 
there  came  from  His  lips  anything  that  sounded  like  im- 
patience and  a  momentary  flash  of  indignation  was,  when 
in  sharpest  contrast  with  "  This  is  my  beloved  Son  :  hear 
Him,"  He  had  to  come  down  from  the  m*»ntain  to  meet 


CHRIST'S  LAMENT  OVER  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS.  55 

the  devil-possessed  boy,  the  useless  agony  of  the  father, 
the  sneering  faces  of  the  scribes,  and  the  impotence  of 
the  disciples.  Looking  on  all  this,  He  turns  to  His  fol- 
lowers— for  it  is  to  the  apostles  my  text  is  spoken,  and 
not  to  the  crowd  outside — with  this  most  remarkable 
exclamation:  "O  faithless  generation,  how  long  shall 
I  be  with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I  suffer  you  ?  " 

Now,  I  said  these  words  at  first  sight  looked  almost 
like  a  momentary  flash  of  indignation,  as  if  for  once  a 
spot  had  come  on  His  pallid  cheek — a  spot  of  anger — 
but  I  do  not  think  it  is  so  if  we  look  a  httle  more  closely. 

The  first  thing  that  seems  to  be  in  it  is  not  anger,  in- 
deed, but  a  very  distinct  and  very  pathetic  expression  of 
Christ's  infinite/fi/«,  because  of  man's  faithlessness.  The 
element  of  personal  sorrow  is  most  obvious  here.  It  is 
not  only  that  He  is  sad  for  tlieir  sakes  that  they  are  so 
unreceptive,  and  He  can  do  so  little  for  them — I  shall 
have  something  to  say  about  that  presently — but  that  He 
feels  for  Himself,  just  as  we  do  in  our  poor  humble 
measure,  the  chilling  effect  of  a:-  atmosphere  where  there 
is  no  sympathy.  All  that  ever  the  teachers  and  guides 
and  leaders  of  the  world  have  had  to  bear — all  the  misery 
of  opening  out  their  hearts  in  the  frosty  air  of  unbelief 
and  rejection — Christ  endured.  All  that  men  have  ever 
felt — of  how  hard  it  is  to  keep  on  working  when  not  a  soul 
understands  them,  when  not  a  single  creature  believes  in 
them,  when  there  is  nobody  that  will  accept  their  mes- 
sage, none  that  will  give  them  credit  for  pure  motives — 
Jesus  Christ  had  to  feel,  and  that  in  an  altogether  singular 
degree.  There  never  was  such  a  lonely  soul  on  this 
earth  as  His,  just  because  there  never  was  another  so 
pure  and  loving. 

The  little  hills  rejoice  together^^  as  the  Psalm  says. 


u 


$6    CHRIST'S  LAMENT  OVER  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS. 

"  on  every  side,"  but  the  great  Alpine  peak  is  alone  there, 
away  up  amongst  the  cold  and  the  snows — the  solitary 
Christ,  the  uncomprehended  Christ,  the  unaccepted  Christ. 
Let  us  see  m  this  one  word  how  humanly,  and  yet  how 
divinely,  He  felt  the  loneliness  to  which  His  love  and 
purity  condemned  Him. 

The  Plain  felt  soul-chilling  after  the  blessed  communion 
of  the  Mountain.  There  was  such  a  difference  between 
Moses  and  Elias  and  the  voice  that  said  "This  is  my 
beloved  Son  :  hear  him  ; "  and  all  the  disbelief  and  slow- 
ness of  spiritual  apprehension  of  the  people  down  below 
there ;  that  no  wonder  that  for  once  the  pain  that  He 
generally  kept  absolutely  down  and  silent,  broke  the 
bounds  even  of  His  restraint,  and  shaped  for  itself  this 
pathetic  utterance  :  "  How  long  shall  I  be  with  you  ?  how 
long  shall  I  suffer  you  ?  " 

Oh,  dear  friends,  here  is  "a  little  window  through 
which  we  may  see  a  great  matter  "  if  we  will  only  think  of 
how  all  that  solitude,  and  all  that  sorrow  of  uncompre- 
hended aims,  was  borne  lovingly  and  patiently,  right  away 
on  to  the  very  end,  for  every  one  of  us.  I  know  that 
there  are  many  of  the  aspects  of  Christ's  life  in  which 
Christ's  griefs  tell  more  on  the  popular  apprehension  :  but 
I  do  not  know  that  there  is  one  in  which  the  title  of  "  The 
man  of  sorrows  "  is  to  all  deeper  thinking  more  pathetic- 
ally vindicated  than  in  this — the  solitude  of  the  uncom- 
prehended and  the  unaccepted  Christ — His  pain  at  His 
disciples'  faithlessness. 

And  then  do  not  let  us  forget  that  in  this  short  sharp 
cry  of  anguish — for  it  is  that — there  may  be  detected  by 
the  listening  ear  not  only  the  tone  of  personal  hurt,  but 
the  tone  of  disappointed  and  thwarted  love.  Because  of 
their  unbelief  He  knew  that  they  could  not  receive  what 


CHRIST'S  LAMENT  OVKR  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS.  57 

He  desired  to  give  them.  We  find  Him  more  than  once 
in  His  life  hemmed  in,  hindered,  balked  of  His  purpose, — 
thwarted,  as  I  say,  in  His  design, — simply  because  there 
was  nobody  with  a  heart  open  to  receive  the  rich  treasure 
that  He  was  ready  to  pour  out.  He  had  to  keep  it 
locked  up  in  His  own  spirit,  else  it  would  have  been 
wasted  and  spilled  upon  the  giound.  "  He  could  do  no 
mighty  works  there  because  of  their  unbelief ; "  and  here 
He  is  standmg  in  the  midst  of  the  men  that  knew  Him 
best,  that  understood  Him  most,  that  were  nearest  to  Him 
in  sympathy ;  but  even  they  were  not  ready  for  all  this 
wealth  of  affection,  all  this  infinitude  of  blessing  with 
which  His  heart  is  charged.  They  offered  no  place  to  put 
it.  They  shut  up  the  narrow  cranny  through  which  it 
might  have  come,  and  so  He  has  to  turn  from  them, 
bearing  it  away  unbestowed.  Like  some  man  that  goes 
out  in  the  morning  with  his  seed-basket  full,  and  finds  the 
whole  field  where  he  would  fain  have  sown  covered  al- 
ready with  the  springing  weeds  or  burdened  with  the  hard 
rock,  and  has  to  bring  back  the  germs  of  possible  life  to 
bless  and  fertilize  some  other  soil.  Ah  !  "  He  that  goeth 
forth  weeping,  bearing  precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come 
again  with  joy ; "  but  He  that  comes  back  weeping^ 
bearing  the  precious  seed  that  He  found  no  field  to  sow  in, 
knows  a  deeper  sadness,  which  has  in  it  no  prophecy 
of  joy.  It  is  wonderfully  pathetic  and  beautiful,  I  think, 
to  see  how  Jesus  Christ  knew  the  pains  of  wounded  love 
that  cannot  get  expressed  because  there  is  no  heart  to 
receive  it. 

Here  I  would  remark,  too,  before  I  go  to  another 
point,  that  these  two  elements — that  of  personal  sorrow 
and  that  of  disappointed  love  and  balked  purposes — 
continue  still,  and  are  represented  as  in  some  measure 


S8  CHRIST'S  LAMENT  OVER  OUR  FAITIILESSNeSS. 

felt  by  Him  now.  It  was  to  disciples  that  He  said,  "  0 
faithless  generation  ! "  He  did  not  mean  to  charge  them 
with  the  entire  absence  of  all  confidence,  but  He  did 
mean  to  declare  that  their  poor,  feeble  faith,  such  as  it 
was,  was  not  worth  naming  in  comparison  with  the 
abounding  mass  of  their  unbelief.  There  was  one  light 
spark  in  them,  and  there  was  also  a  great  heap  of  green 
wood  that  had  not  caught  the  flame,  and  only  smoked 
instead  of  blazing.  And  so  He  said  to  them,  "  O  faithless 
generation ! " 

Ay,  and  if  He  came  down  here  amongst  us  now,  and 
went  through  the  professing  Christians  in  this  land,  to 
how  many  of  us — regard  being  had  to  the  feebleness  of 
our  confidence  and  the  strength  of  our  unbelief — He 
would  have  to  say  the  same  thing,  "  O  faithless  genera- 
tion ! " 

The  version  of  that  clause  in  Matthew  and  Luke  adds 
a  significant  word, — "  faithless  and  perverse  generation." 
The  addition  carries  a  grave  lesson,  as  teaching  us  that 
the  two  are  inseparably  united  ;  that  the  want  of  faith  is 
morally  a  crime  and  sin ;  that  unbelief  is  at  once  the 
most  tragic  manifestation  of  man's  perverse  will,  and  also 
in  its  turn  the  source  of  still  more  obstinate  and  wide- 
spreading  evil.  Blindness  to  His  light,  and  rejection  of 
His  love.  He  treats  as  the  very  head  and  crown  of  evil. 
Like  mtertwinmg  snakes,  the  loathly  heads  are  separate ; 
but  the  slimy  convolutions  are  twisted  indistinguishably 
together,  and  all  unbeUef  has  in  it  the  nature  of  per- 
versity— as  all  perversity  has  in  it  the  nature  of  unbelief! 
*'  He  will  convince  the  world  of  sin,  because  they  believe 
not  on  me." 

May  we  venture  to  say,  as  we  have  akeady  hinted,  thAt 
til  this  pain  is,  in  some  mysterious  way,  still  inflicted  on 


CHRIST'S  LAMENT  OVER  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS.    59 

His  loving  heart?  Can  it  be  that  every  time  we  are  guilty 
of  unbelieving,  unsympathetic  rejection  of  His  love,  we 
send  a  pang  of  real  pain  and  sorrow  into  the  heart  of 
Christ?  It  is  a  strange,  solemn  thought  There  are 
many  difficulties  which  start  up,  if  we  at  all  accept  it 
But  still  it  does  appear  as  if  we  could  scarcely  believe  in 
His  perpetual  manhood,  or  think  of  His  love  as  being  in 
any  real  sense  a  human  love,  without  believing  that  He 
sorrows  when  we  sin  ;  and  that  we  can  grieve,  and  wound, 
and  cause  to  recoil  upon  itself,  as  it  were,  and  close  up 
that  loving  and  gracious  Spirit  that  delights  in  being  met 
with  answering  love.  If  we  may  venture  to  take  our 
love  as  in  any  measure  analogous  to  His — and  unless  we 
do  His  love  is  to  us  a  word  without  meaning — we  may 
believe  that  it  is  so.  Do  not  we  know  that  the  purer  our 
love,  and  the  more  it  has  purified  us,  the  more  sensitive 
it  becomes,  even  while  the  less  suspicious  it  becomes  ? 
Is  not  the  purest,  most  unselfish,  highest  love,  that  in 
which  the  least  failure  in  response  is  felt  most  painfully  ? 
Though  there  be  no  anger,  and  no  change  in  the  Love, 
still  there  is  a  pang  where  there  is  an  inadequate  per- 
ception, or  an  unworthy  reception,  of  it  And  Scriptxire 
seems  to  countenance  the  belief  that  Divine  Love,  too, 
may  know  something,  in  some  mysterious  fashion,  like 
that  feeling,  when  it  warns  us,  "  Grieve  not  the  Holy 
Spirit  of  God,  whereby  ye  are  sealed  unto  the  day  of 
redemption."  So  we  may  venture  to  say.  Grieve  not  the 
Christ  of  God,  who  redeems  us ;  and  remember  that  we 
grieve  Him  most  when  we  will  not  let  Him  pour  His 
love  upon  us,  but  turn  a  sullen,  unresponsive  unbelief 
towards  His  pleading  grace,  as  some  glacier  shuts  out  the 
■unshinc  from  the  mountain-side  with  its  thick-ribbed  ice. 
Another  thought,  which  ^le'^ms  to  me  to  be  expressed 


6o  CHRIST'S  LAMENT  OVER  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS. 

• 

in  this  wonderful  exclamation  of  our  Lord's,  is — that  their 

faithUssness  bound  Christ  to  earth,  and  kept  Him  here. 

As  there  is  not  anger,  but  only  pain,  so  there  is  also,  1 
think,  not  ejcactly  impatience,  but  a  desire  to  depart, 
coupled  with  the  feeling  that  He  cannot  leave  them  till 
they  have  grown  stronger  in  faith.  And  that  feeling  is 
increased  by  the  experience  of  their  utter  helplessness 
and  shameful  discomfiture  during  His  brief  absence. 
That  had  shown  that  they  were  not  fit  to  be  trusted  alone. 
He  had  been  away  for  a  day  up  m  the  mountain  there, 
and  though  they  did  not  build  an  altar  to  any  golden  calf, 
like  their  ancestors,  when  their  leader  was  absent,  stil) 
when  He  comes  back  He  finds  things  all  gone  wrong 
because  of  the  few  hours  of  His  absence.  What  would 
they  do  if  He  were  to  go  away  from  them  altogether  ? 
They  would  never  be  able  to  stand  it  at  all.  It  is  im- 
possible that  He  should  leave  them  thus — raw,  immature. 
The  plant  has  not  yet  grown  sufficiently  strong  to  take 
away  the  prop  round  which  it  climbed.  "  How  long 
must  I  be  with  you  ? "  says  the  loving  Teacher,  who  is 
prepared  ungrudgingly  to  give  His  slow  scholar  as  much 
time  as  he  needs  to  learn  his  lesson.  He  is  not  un- 
patient,  but  He  desires  to  finish  the  task ;  and  yet  He  is 
ready  to  let  the  scholar's  dulness  determine  the  duration 
of  His  stay.  Surely  that  is  wondrous  and  heart-touching 
love,  that  Christ  should  let  their  slowness  measure  the 
time  during  which  He  should  linger  here,  and  refrain 
from  the  glory  which  He  desired.  We  do  not  know  all 
the  reasons  which  determined  the  length  of  our  Lord's 
life  upon  earth,  but  this  was  one  of  them,— that  He  could 
not  go  away  until  He  had  left  these  men  strong  enough 
to  stand  by  themselves,  and  to  lay  the  foundations  of  the 
Church.    Therefore  He  yields!  to  the  pica  of  their  vay 


CHRIST'S  LAMENT  OVER  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS.  6l 

faithlessness  and  backwardness,  and  with  this  wonderful 
word  of  condescension  and  appeal,  bade  them  say  for 
how  many  more  days  He  must  abide  in  the  plain,  and 
turn  His  back  on  the  glories  that  had  gleamed  for  a 
moment  on  the  mountain  of  transfiguration. 

In  this  connection,  too,  is  it  not  striking  to  notice  how 
long  His  short  life  and  ministry  appeared  to  our  Lord 
Himself?  There  is  to  me  something  very  pathetic  in 
that  question  He  addressed  to  one  of  His  Apostles  near 
the  end  of  His  pilgrimage.  '*  Have  I  been  so  long  time 
with  you,  and  yet  hast  thou  not  known  Me  ? "  It  was 
not  so  very  long — three  years,  perhaps,  at  the  outside — 
and  much  less,  if  we  take  the  shortest  computation  ;  and 
yet  to  Him  it  had  been  long.  The  days  had  seemed  to 
go  slowly.  He  longed  that  the  fire  which  He  came  tf 
fling  on  earth  were  already  kindled,  and  the  moments 
seemed  to  drop  so  slowly  from  the  urn  of  time.  But 
neither  the  holy  longing  to  consummate  His  work  by  the 
mystery  of  His  passion,  to  which  more  than  one  of  His 
words  bear  witness,  nor  the  not  less  holy  longing  to  be 
glorified  with  the  glory  which  He  had  with  the  Father 
before  the  world  was,  which  we  may  reverently  venture 
to  suppose  in  Him,  could  be  satisfied  till  His  slow 
scholars  were  wiser,  and  His  feeble  followers  stronger. 

And  then  again,  here  we  get  a  glimpse  into  the  depth 
of  Christ's  patient  forbearance.  We  might  read  these 
other  words  of  our  text,  "  How  long  shall  I  suflfer 
you?"  with  such  an  intonation  as  to  make  them  almost 
a  threat  that  the  limits  of  forbearance  would  soon  be 
reached,  and  that  He  was  not  going  to  "  suffer  them " 
much  longer.  Some  commentators  speak  of  them  as 
expressing  *'  holy  indignation,"  and  I  quite  believe  that 
there  is  such  a  thing,  and  that  on  other  occasions  it  was 


^2  CHRISrS  LAMEIsrr  OVER  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS. 

plainly  spoken  in  Christ's  words.  But  I  fail  to  catch  the 
tone  of  it  here.  To  me  this  plaintive  question  has  the 
very  opposite  of  indignation  in  its  ring.  It  sounds  rather 
like  a  pledge  that  as  long  as  they  need  forbearance  they 
will  get  it ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  a  question  of  "  How 
lo«g  that  is  to  be  ?  "  It  implies  the  inexhaustible  riches 
and  resources  of  His  patient  mercy.  And  oh,  dear 
brethren,  that  endless  forbearance  is  the  only  refuge  and 
ground  of  hope  we  have.  His  perfect  charity  "  is  not  soon 
smgry ;  beareth  all  things,"  and  never  faileth.  To  it  we 
have  all  to  make  the  appeal — 

"  Though  I  have  most  unthankful  been 
Of  all  that  e'er  Thy  grace  received ; 
Ten  thousand  times  Thy  goodness  seen, 
Ten  thousand  times  Thy  goodness  grieved; 
Yet,  Lord,  the  chief  of  sinners  spare." 

And,  thank  God,  we  do  not  make  our  appeal  in  vain. 

There  is  rebuke  in  His  question,  but  how  tender  a 
rebuke  it  is !  He  rebukes  without  anger.  Plainly  He 
names  the  fault.  He  shows  distinctly  His  sorrow,  and 
does  not  hide  the  strain  on  His  forbearance.  That  is 
His  way  of  cure  for  His  servants'  faithlessness.  It  was 
His  way  on  earth  ;  it  is  His  way  in  heaven.  To  us,  too, 
comes  the  loving  rebuke  of  this  question,  "  How  long 
shall  I  suffer  you  ?  " 

Thank  God  that  our  answer  may  be  cast  into  the  words 
of  His  own  promise :  **  I  say  not  unto  thee,  until  seven 
times  j  but  until  seventy  times  seven."  Bear  with  me  till 
Thou  hast  perfected  me ;  and  then  bear  me  to  Thyself, 
that  I  may  be  with  Thee  for  ever,  and  grieve  Thy  love  no 
more.  So  may  it  be,  for  with  Him  is  plenteous  redemp- 
tion, and  His  forbearing  "  mercy  endureth  for  ever." 


VIII. 

AN  OLD  DISCIPLE. 


Acts  xxi.  i6. 

Ot^  filnaion  of  Cyprus,  an  old  disciple,  with  wkom  we  should 
lodge. 

THERE  is  something  that  stimulates  the  imagination 
in  these  mere  shadows  of  men  that  we  meet  in  the 
New  Testament  story.  What  a  strange  fate  that  is  to  be 
made  immortal  by  a  line  in  this  book — immortal  and  yet 
so  unknown  !  We  do  not  hear  another  word  about  this 
host  of  Paul's,  but  his  name  will  be  familiar  to  men's  ears 
till  the  world's  end.  This  figure  is  drawn  in  the  slightest 
possible  outline,  with  a  couple  of  hasty  strokes  of  the 
pencil.  But  if  we  take  even  these  few  bare  words,  and 
look  at  them,  feeling  that  there  is  a  man  like  ourselves 
sketched  in  them,  I  think  we  can  get  a  real  picture  out  ot 
them,  and  that  even  this  dim  form  crowded  into  the  back- 
ground of  the  apostolic  story  may  have  a  word  or  two  to 
say  to  us. 

His  name  and  his  bhthplace  show  that  he  belonged  to 
the  same  class  as  Paul,  that  is,  he  was  a  Hellenist,  or  a 
Jew  by  descent,  but  bom  on  Gentile  soil,  and  speaking 
Greek.  He  comes  from  Cyprus,  the  native  island  of 
Barnabas,  who  may  have  been  a  friend  of  his.     He  was 


14  AN  OLD  DISCIPLE. 

an  "  old  disciple,"  which  does  not  mean  simply  that  ae 
was  advanced  in  life,  but  that  he  was  "  a  disciple  from  the 
beginning,"  one  of  the  original  group  of  believers.  If  we 
interpret  the  word  strictly,  we  must  suppose  him  to  have 
been  one  of  the  rapidly  diminishing  nucleus,  who  thirty 
years  or  more  ago  had  seen  Christ  in  the  flesh,  and  been 
drawn  to  Him  by  His  own  words.  Evidently  the  men- 
tion of  the  early  date  of  his  conversion  suggests  that  the 
number  of  liis  contemporaries  was  becoming  few,  and  that 
there  was  a  certain  honour  and  distinction  conceded  by 
the  second  generation  of  the  Church  to  the  survivors  of 
the  primitive  band.  Then,  of  course,  as  one  of  the 
earliest  believers,  he  must,  by  this  time,  have  been 
advanced  in  life.  A  Cypriote  by  birth,  he  had  emigrated 
to,  and  resided  in,  Jerusalem  ;  and  there  must  have  had 
means  and  heart  to  exercise  a  liberal  hospitality.  Though 
a  Hellenist,  like  Paul,  he  does  not  seem  to  have  known 
the  Apostle  before,  for  the  most  probable  rendering  of  the 
context  is,  that  the  disciples  from  Caesarea,  who  were 
travelling  with  the  Apostle  from  that  place  to  Jerusalem, 
'*  brought  us  to  Mnason,"  implying  that  this  was  their  first 
introduction  to  each  other.  But  though  probably  un- 
acquainted with  the  great  teacher  of  the  Gentiles — whose 
ways  were  looked  on  with  much  doubt  by  many  of  the 
Jerusalem  Christians — the  old  man,  relic  of  the  original 
disciples  as  he  was,  had  full  sympathy  with  Paul,  and 
opened  his  house  and  his  heart  to  receive  him.  His 
adhesion  to  the  Apostle  would  no  doubt  carry  weight  with 
"  the  many  thousands  of  Jews  which  believed,  and  were 
all  zealous  of  the  law,"  and  were  as  honourable  to  him  as 
helpful  to  Paul. 

Now  if  we  put  all  this  together,  does  not  the  shadowy 
figure  begin  to  become  more  substantial  ?  and  does  it  not 


AN  OLD  DISCIPLE.  65 

preach  to  us  some  lessons  that  we  may  well  take  to 

heart  ? 

The  first  thing  which  this  old  disciple  says  to  us  out  of 
the  misty  distance  is — Hold  fast  to  your  early  faith,  and 
to  the  Christ  whom  you  have  known. 

Many  a  year  had  passed  since  the  days  when  perhaps 
the  beauty  of  the  Master's  own  character  and  the  sweet 
ness  of  His  own  words  had  drawn  this  man  to  Him.  How- 
much  had  come  and  gone  since  then  !  Calvary  and  the 
Resurrection,  Olivet  and  the  Pentecost.  His  own  life 
and  mind  had  changed  from  buoyant  youth  to  sober  old 
age.  His  whole  feelings  and  outlook  on  the  world  were 
different.  His  old  friends  had  mostly  gone.  James 
indeed  was  still  there,  and  Peter  and  John  remained  until 
this  present,  but  most  had  fallen  on  sleep.  A  new 
generation  was  rising  round  about  him,  and  new  thoughts 
and  ways  were  at  work.  But  one  thing  remained  for  him 
what  it  had  been  in  the  old  days,  and  that  was  Christ. 
"  One  generation  cometh  and  another  goeth,  but  the 
Christ  abideth  for  ever." 

"  We  all  are  changed  by  still  degrees ; 
All  but  the  basis  of  the  soul. " 

And  the  "  basis  of  the  soul/'  in  the  truest  sense,  is  that 
one  Qod-laid  foundation,  on  which  whosoever  buildeth 
shall  never  be  confounded,  nor  ever  need  to  change  with 
changing  time.  Are  we  bi.ilding  there  ?  and  do  we  find 
that  life,  as  it  advances,  but  tightens  our  hold  on  Jesus 
Christ,  who  is  our  hope. 

There  is  no  fauer  nor  happier  experience  than  that  o^ 
the  old  man  who  has  around  him  the  old  loves,  the  old 
confidences,  and  some  measure  of  the  old  joys.  But  who 
can  secure  that  blessed  unity  in  his  life,  if  he  depend  nr, 


66  AN  OLD  DISCIPLE. 

the  love  and  help  of  even  the  dearest,  or  on  the  light 

of  any  creature  for  his  sunshine?     There  is  but  one 
way  of  making  all  our  days  one,  because  one  love,  one 
hope,  one  joy,  one  aim  binds  them  all  together ;  and 
that  is  by  taking  the  abiding  Christ  for  ours,  and  abiding 
in  Him  all  our  days.     Holding  fast  by  the  early  convic- 
tions does  not  mean  stiffening  in  them.     There  is  plenty 
of  room  for  advancement  in  Christ.     No  doubt  Mnason, 
when  he  was  first  a  disciple,  knew  but  very  little  of  the 
meaning  and  worth  of  his  Master  and  His  work,  compared 
with  what  he  had  learned  in  all  these  years.     And  our 
true  progress  consists,  not  in  growing  away  from  Jesus, 
but  in  growing  up  into  Him  ;  not  in  passing  through  and 
leaving  behind  the  first  convictions  of  Him  as  Saviour ; 
but  in  having  these  verified  by  the  experience  of  years, 
deepened   and   cleared,   unfolded   and   ordered   into  a 
larger,  though  still  incomplete,  whole.    We  may  make  our 
whole  lives  helpful  to  that  advancement;  and  blessed 
shall  we  be,  if  the  early  faith  is  the  faith  that  brightens 
till  the  end ;  and  brightens  the  end.     How  beautiful  it  is 
to  see  a  man,  below  whose  feet  time  is  crumbling  away, 
holding  firmly  by  the  Lord  whom   he  has  loved  and 
served  all  his  days,  and  finding  that  the  pillar  of  cloud, 
which  guided  him  while  he  lived,  begins  to  glow  in  its 
heart  of  fire  as  the  shadows  fall,  and  is  a  pillar  of  light  to 
guide  him  when  he  comes  to  die.     Dear  friends,  whether 
you  be  near  the  starting  or  near  the  prize  of  your  Christian 
course,  "  cast  not  away  your  confidence,  which  hath  great 
recompense  of  reward."     See  to  it  that  the  "knowledge 
of  tlie  Father,"  which  is  the  "  Httle  children's  "  possession, 
passes  through  the  "  strength  "  of  youth,  and  the  "  victory 
over  the  world,"  into  the  calm  knowledge  of  Him  "  that 
is  from  the  beginning,"  wherein  the  father*  find  thcii 


AN  OLD  DISCIPLE.  67 

earliest  convictions  deepened  and  perfected.  "  Grow  bi 
grace,  and  in  the  knowledge  "  of  Him,  whom  to  know  ever 
so  imperfectly  is  eternal  life;  whom  to  know  a  little  better, 
is  the  true  progress  for  men ;  whom  to  know  more  and 
more  fully  is  the  growth,  and  gladness,  and  glory  of  the 
heavens.  Look  at  this  shadowy  figure  that  looks  out  on  us 
here,  and  listen  to  his  far  off  voice,  "  exhorting  us  all  that 
with  purpose  of  heart  we  should  cleave  unto  the  Lord." 

But  there  is  another,  and,  as  some  might  think,  opposite 
lesson,  to  be  gathered  from  this  outline  sketch,  namely, 
The  welcome  which  we  should  be  ready  to  give  to  new 
thoughts  and  ways.  It  is  evidently  meant  that  we  should 
note  Mnason's  position  in  the  Church  as  significant  in 
regard  to  his  hospitable  reception  of  the  Apostle.  You 
can  fancy  how  the  little  knot  of  "  original  disciples " 
would  be  apt  to  value  themselves  on  their  position,  espe- 
cially as  time  went  on,  and  their  ranks  were  thinned. 
They  would  be  tempted  to  suppose  that  they  must  needs 
understand  the  Master's  meaning  a  great  deal  better  than 
those  who  had  never  known  Christ  after  the  flesh ;  and 
no  doubt  they  would  be  inclined  to  share  in  the  suspicion 
with  which  the  thorough-going  Jewish  party  in  the  Church 
regarded  this  Paul,  who  had  never  seen  the  Lord.  It 
would  have  been  very  natural  for  this  good  old  man  to 
have  said — "  I  do  not  like  these  new-fangled  ways.  There 
was  nothing  of  this  sort  in  my  younger  days.  Is  it  not 
likely  that  we,  who  were  at  the  beginning  of  the  Gospel, 
lihould  understand  the  Gospel  and  the  Church's  work 
without  this  new  man  coming  to  set  us  right  ?  I  am  too 
old  to  go  in  with  these  changes."  All  the  more  honour- 
able is  it  tnat  he  should  have  been  ready  with  an  open 
house  to  shelter  the  great  champion  of  the  Gentile 
Churches ;  and,  as  we  may  reasonably  believe,  with  an  open 


08  AN  OLD  DISCIPLB. 

heart  to  welcome  his  teaching.  Depend  on  it,  it  was  not 
every  old  disciple  that  would  have  done  as  much. 

Now,  does  not  this  flexibility  of  mind,  and  openness  of 
nature  to  welcome  new  ways  of  work,  when  united  with 
the  persistent  constancy  in  his  old  creed,  make  an  ad- 
mirable combination  ?  It  is  one  rare  enough  at  any  age, 
but  especially  in  elderly  men.  We  are  always  disposed  to 
rend  apart  what  ought  never  to  be  separated,  the  inflexible 
adherence  to  a  fixed  centre  of  belief,  and  the  freest 
ranging  around  the  whole  changing  circumference.  The 
man  of  strong  convictions  is  apt  to  grip  every  trifle  of 
practice  and  every  unimportant  bit  of  his  creed  with  the 
same  tenacity  mth  which  he  holds  its  vital  heart,  and  to 
mistake  obstinacy  for  firmness,  and  dogged  self-will  for 
faithfulness  to  truth.  The  man  who  welcomes  new  light, 
and  reaches  forward  to  greet  new  ways,  is  apt  to  delight 
in  having  much  fluid  that  ought  to  be  fixed,  and  to  value 
himself  on  a  "  liberality  "  which  simply  means  that  he  has 
no  central  truth  and  no  rooted  convictions.  And  as 
men  get  older  they  stiff"en  more  and  more,  and  have  to 
leave  the  new  work  for  new  hands,  and  the  new  thoughts 
for  new  brains.  That  is  all  in  the  order  of  nature,  but  so 
much  the  finer  is  it  when  we  do  see  old  Christian  men 
who  join  to  their  firm  grip  of  the  old  Gospel  the  power 
of  welcoming,  and  at  least  bidding  God  speed,  to  new 
thoughts  and  new  workers,  and  new  ways  of  work. 

The  union  of  these  two  characteristics  should  be  con- 
sciously aimed  at  by  us  all.  Hold  unchanging,  with  a 
grasp  that  nothing  can  relax,  by  Christ,  our  life  and  0!;i 
all ;  but  with  that  tenacity  of  mind,  try  to  cultivate 
flexibility  too.  Love  the  old,  but  be  ready  to  welcome 
the  new.  Do  not  consecrate  your  own  or  other  people's 
habits  of  thought  or  forms  of  work  with  the  same  sanctit> 


AN  OLD  DISCIPLE.  69 

which  belongs  to  the  central  truths  of  our  salvation ;  do 
not  let  the  willingness  to  entertain  new  light  lead  you  to 
tolerate  any  changes  there.  It  is  hard  to  blend  the  two 
virtues  together,  but  they  are  meant  to  be  complements, 
not  opposites,  to  each  other.  The  fluttering  leaves  and 
bending  branches  need  a  firm  stem  and  deep  roots.  The 
firm  stem  looks  noblest  in  its  unmoved  strength  when  it 
is  contrasted  with  a  cloud  of  light  foliage  dancing  in  the 
wind.  Try  to  imitate  the  persistency  and  the  open  mind 
of  that  "  old  disciple  "  who  was  so  ready  to  welcome  and 
entertain  the  Apostle  of  the  Gentile  Churches. 

But  there  is  still  another  lesson  which,  I  think,  this 
portrait  may  suggest,  and  that  is,  the  beauty  that  may 
dwell  in  an  obscure  life.  There  is  nothing  to  be  said 
about  this  old  man  but  that  he  was  a  disciple.  He  had 
done  no  great  thing  for  his  Lord.  No  teacher  or  preacher 
was  he.  No  eloquence  or  genius  was  in  him.  No  great 
heroic  deed,  or  piece  of  saintly  endurance,  is  to  be  re^ 
corded  of  him,  but  only  this,  that  he  had  loved  and  fol- 
lowed Christ  all  his  days.  And  is  not  that  record  enough  ? 
It  is  a  blessed  fate  to  live  for  ever  in  the  world's  memory, 
with  only  that  one  word  attached  to  his  name — a  disciple. 

The  world  may  remember  very  little  about  us  a  year 
after  we  are  gone.  No  thought,  no  deed  may  be  con- 
nected with  our  names  beyond  some  narrow  circle  of 
loving  hearts.  There  may  be  no  place  for  us  in  any 
record  wTitten  with  a  man's  pen.  But  what  does  that 
matter  if  our  names,  dear  friends,  are  written  in  the 
Lamb's  Book  of  Life,  with  this  for  sole  epitaph,  "a 
disciple  "  ?  That  single  phrase  is  the  noblest  summary  of 
a  life.  A  thinker  ?  a  hero  ?  a  great  man  ?  a  millionnaire? 
no,  **  a  disciple."  That  says  all.  May  it  be  your  epitaph 
and  mine  I 


TO  AN  OLD  DISCIPIK 

What  he  could  do  he  did.  It  was  not  his  vocation  to 
go  into  the  regions  beyond,  like  Paul ;  to  guide  the  Church, 
Uke  James ;  to  put  his  remembrances  of  his  Master  in  a 
book,  like  Matthew  ;  to  die  for  Jesus,  like  Stephen.  But 
he  could  open  his  house  for  Paul  and  his  company,  and 
so  take  his  share  in  their  work.  "  He  that  receiveth  a 
prophet  in  the  name  of  a  prophet  shall  receive  a  prophet's 
reward."  He  that  with  understanding  and  sympathy 
welcomes  and  sustains  the  prophet,  shows  thereby  that 
he  stands  on  the  same  spiritual  level,  and  has  the  makings 
of  a  prophet  in  him,  though  he  want  the  intellectual  force 
and  may  never  open  his  lips  to  speak  the  burden  of  the 
Lord.  Therefore,  he  shall  be  one  in  reward  as  he  is  in 
spirit.  The  old  law  in  Israel  is  the  law  for  the  warfare 
of  Christ's  soldiers.  "  As  his  part  is  that  goeth  down  to 
the  battle,  so  shall  his  part  be  that  abideth  by  the  stuff: 
they  shall  part  alike."  The  men  in  the  rear  who  guard 
the  camp,  and  keep  the  communications  open,  may  de- 
serve honours,  and  crosses,  and  prize-money  as  much  as 
their  comrades  who  led  the  charge  that  cut  through  the 
enemy's  Hne  and  scattered  their  ranks.  It  does  not 
matter,  so  far  as  the  real  spiritual  worth  of  the  act  is 
concerned,  what  we  do,  but  only  why  we  do  it  All 
deeds  are  the  same  which  are  done  from  the  same 
motive  and  with  the  same  devotion ;  and  He  who  judges 
not  by  our  outward  actions,  but  by  the  springs  from 
which  they  come,  will  bracket  together  as  equals  at  last 
many  who  were  widely  separated  here  in  the  form  of  their 
service,  and  the  apparent  magnitude  of  their  work. 

"  She  hath  done  what  she  could."  Her  power  deter- 
mined the  measure  and  the  manner  of  her  work.  One 
predoos  thing  she  had,  and  only  one,  and  she  broke  her 
ooe  rich  possession  that  she  m^t  pour  the  fragrant  oil 


AN  OLD  DISCIPLE.  71 

over  His  feet.  Therefore,  her  useless  deed  of  utter  love 
and  uncalculating  self-sacrifice  is  crowned  by  praise  from 
His  lips,  whose  praise  is  our  highest  honour,  and  the 
world  is  still  "  filled  with  the  odour  of  that  ointment" 

So  this  old  disciple's  hospitality  is  strangely  made  im- 
mortal, and  the  record  of  it  reminds  us  that  the  smallest 
-ervice  done  for  Jesus  is  remembered  and  treasured  by 
Him.  Men  have  spent  their  lives  to  win  a  line  in  the 
world's  chronicles  which  are  written  on  sand,  and  have 
broken  their  hearts  because  they  failed ;  and  this  passing 
act  of  one  obscure  Christian,  in  sheltering  a  little  com- 
pany of  travel-stained  wayfarers,  has  made  his  name  a 
possession  for  ever.  **  Seekest  thou  great  things  for  thy- 
self ?  Seek  them  not ; "— bu '  let  us  fill  our  little  comers, 
doing  our  unnoticed  work  for  the  love  of  our  Lord,  care- 
less about  man's  remembrance  or  praise,  because  sure  of 
Christ's,  whose  praise  is  the  only  fame,  whose  remem- 
brance is  the  highest  reward.  "  God  is  not  unrighteouj 
to  forget  your  work  and  labour  of  love.** 


"THE  HANDS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOB. 


Genesis  xiix.  23,  24. 

The  archers  shot  at  him,  but  his  bow  abode  in  strength,  and  the  arms 
of  his  hands  were  made  strong  bj  the  Y  nds  of  the  mighty  Gfid  of 
Jacob. 

'T^HESE  picturesque  .fords  are  part  of  what  purports 
to  be  one  of  the  oldest  pieces  of  poetry  in  the 
Bible— the  dying  Jacob's  prophetic  blessing  on  his  sons. 
Of  these  sons,  there  are  two  over  whom  his  heart 
seems  especially  to  pour  itself — Judah  the  ancestor  of 
the  royal  tribe,  and  Joseph.  The  future  fortunes  of  their 
descendants  are  painted  in  most  glowing  colours.  And 
of  these  two,  the  blessing  on  the  "  Son  who  was  dead  and 
is  alive  again,  who  was  lost  and  is  found,"  is  the  fuller  of 
tender  desire  and  glad  prediction.  The  words  of  our  text 
are  probably  to  be  taken  as  prophecy,  not  as  history — as 
referring  to  the  future  conflicts  and  victories  of  the  tribe, 
not  to  the  past  trials  and  triumphs  of  its  father.  But  be 
that  as  it  may,  they  contain,  in  most  vivid  metaphor,  the 
earliest  utterance  of  a  very  familiar  truth.  They  are  the 
first  hint  of  that  thought  which  is  caught  up  and  expanded 
m  many  a  later  saying  of  psalmist,  and  prophet,  and  apostle. 
We  hear  their  echoes  in  the  great  song  which  David  spake 


♦THE  HAi\DS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOB."  73 

"  in  the  day  that  the  Lord  delivered  him  from  the  hand 
of  all  his  enemies,  and  from  the  hand  of  Saul."  "  He 
teacheth  my  hands  to  war,  so  that  a  bow  of  steel  is  broken 
by  mine  arms ;"  and  the  idea  receives  its  fullest  carrying  out 
and  noblest  setting  forth  in  the  trumpet-call  of  the  apostle, 
who  had  seen  more  formidable  weapons  and  a  more  terrible 
military  discipline  in  Rome's  legions  than  Jacob  knew,  and 
who  pressed  them  into  his  stimulating  call :  "  Be  strong  in 
the  Lord,  and  in  the  power  of  His  might."  "  Put  on  the 
whole  armour  of  God."  Strength  for  conflict  by  contact 
with  the  strength  of  God  is  the  common  thought  of  all 
these  passages — a  very  common  thought,  which  may  per- 
haps be  freshened  for  us  by  the  singular  intensity  with 
which  this  metaphor  of  our  text  presents  it.  Look  at  the 
picture. — Here  stands  the  solitary  man,  ringed  all  round 
by  enemies  full  of  bitter  hate.  Their  arrows  are  on  the 
string,  their  bows  drawn  to  the  ear.  The  shafts  fly  thick, 
and  when  they  have  whizzed  past  him,  and  he  can  be 
seen  again,  he  stands  unharmed,  grasping  his  unbroken 
bow.  The  assault  has  shivered  no  weapon,  has  given  no 
wound.  He  has  been  able  to  stand  in  the  evil  day — and 
look !  a  pair  of  great  gentle  strong  hands  are  laid  upon 
his  hands  and  arms,  and  strength  passes  into  his  feeble- 
ness from  the  touch  of  the  hands  of  the  mighty  God  of 
Jacob.  So  the  enemy  have  two,  not  one,  to  reckon  with. 
By  the  side  of  the  hunted  man  stands  a  mighty  figure,  and 
it  is  His  strength,  not  the  mortal's  impotence,  that  has  to 
be  overcome.  Some  dream  of  such  Divine  help  in  the 
struggle  of  battle  has  floated  through  the  minds  and  been 
enshrined  in  the  legends  of  many  people,  as  when  the 
panoplied  Athene  has  been  descried  leading  the  Grecian 
armies,  or,  through  the  dust  of  conflict,  the  gleaming 
annour  and  white  horses  of  the  Twin  Brethren  far  in  ad 


74  "THE  HANDS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOB." 

vance  of  the  armies  of  Rome.  But  the  dream  is  for  us  a 
reality.  It  is  true  that  we  go  not  to  warfare  at  our  own 
charges,  nor  by  our  own  strength.  If  we  love  Him  and 
try  to  make  a  brave  stand  against  our  own  evil,  and  to 
strike  a  manful  blow  for  God  in  this  world,  we  shall  not 
have  to  bear  the  brunt  alone.  Remember  he  who  fights 
for  God  never  fights  without  God. 

There  is  a  strange  story  in  a  later  book  of  Scripture, 
which  almost  reads  as  if  it  had  been  modelled  on  some 
reminiscence  of  these  words  of  the  dying  Jacob — and  is,  at 
any  rate,  a  remarkable  illustration  of  them.  The  kingdom 
of  Israel,  of  which  the  descendants  of  Joseph  were  the 
most  conspicuous  part,  was  in  the  very  crisis  and  agony  of 
one  of  its  S>Tian  wars.  Its  principal  human  helper  was 
"  fallen  sick  of  the  sickness  whereof  he  died."  And  to 
his  death-bed  came,  in  a  passion  of  perplexity  and  de- 
spair, the  irresolute  weakling  who  was  then  king,  bewailing 
the  impending  wthdrawal  of  the  nation's  best  defence. 
The  dying  Elisha,  with  curt  authority,  pays  no  heed  to  the 
tears  of  Joash,  but  bids  him  take  bow  and  arrows.  "  And 
he  said  to  the  king  of  Israel,  Put  thine  hand  upon  the 
bow,"  and  he  put  his  hand  upon  it ;  and  "  Elisha  put  his 
hands  upon  the  king's  hands^  Then,  when  the  thm,  wasted, 
transparent  fingers  of  the  old  man  were  thus  laid  guiding 
md  infusing  strength,  by  a  strange  paradox,  into  the  brown, 
muscular  hands  of  the  young  king,  he  bid?  him  open  the 
casement  that  looked  eastward  towards  the  lands  of  the 
enemy,  and,  as  the  blinding  sunshine  and  the  warm  air 
streamed  into  the  sick-chamber,  he  bade  him  draw  the  bow. 
He  was  obeyed,  and,  as  the  arrow  whizzed  Jordanwards, 
the  dying  prophet  followed  its  flight  with  words  brief  and 
rapid  like  it,  "  the  arrow  of  the  Lord's  deliverance."  Here 
we  have  all  the  elements  of  our  text  singularly  repcatedo — 


"THE  HANDS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOii."  75 

the  dying  seer,  the  king  the  representative  of  Joseph 
in  the  royal  dignity  to  which  his  descendants  have  come, 
the  arrows  and  the  bow,  the  strength  for  conflict  by  the 
touch  of  hands  that  had  the  strength  of  God  in  them.  The 
lesson  of  that  paradox  that  the  dying  gave  strength  to  the 
living,  the  feeble  to  the  strong,  was  the  old  one  which  is 
ever  new,  that  the  mere  human  power  is  weakness  when 
it  is  strongest,  and  that  power  drawn  from  God  is  omnipo- 
tent when  it  seems  weakest.  And  the  further  lesson  is 
the  lesson  of  our  text,  that  our  hands  are  then  strengthened 
when  His  hands  are  laid  upon  them,  of  whom  it  is  written  : 
"  Thou  hast  a  mighty  arm  :  strong  is  Thy  hand,  and  high  is 
Thy  right  hand." 

As  a  father  in  old  days  might  have  taken  his  little  boy 
out  to  the  butts,  and  put  a  bow  into  his  hand,  and  given 
him  his  first  lesson  in  archery,  directing  his  unsteady  aim 
by  his  own  firmer  finger,  and  lending  the  strength  of  his 
wrist  to  his  child's  feebler  pull,  so  God  does  with  us.  The 
sure  strong  hand  is  laid  on  ours,  and  is  "  profitable  to 
direct."  A  wisdom  not  our  own  is  ever  at  our  side,  and 
ready  for  our  service.  We  but  dimly  perceive  the  con- 
ditions of  the  conflict,  and  the  mark  at  which  we  should 
aim  is  ever  apt  to  be  obscured  to  our  perceptions.  But 
in  all  cases  where  conscience  is  perplexed,  or  where  the 
judgment  is  at  fault,  we  may,  if  we  will,  have  Him  for  our 
teacher.  And  when  we  know  not  where  to  strike  the  foes 
that  seem  invulnerable,  like  the  warrior  who  was  dipped 
in  the  magic  stream,  or  clothed  in  mail  impenetrable  as 
ihinoceros'  hide.  He  will  make  us  wise  to  know  the  one 
spot  where  a  wound  is  fatal.  We  shall  not  need  to  fight 
as  one  that  beats  the  air ;  to  strike  at  random ;  or  to  draw 
our  bow  at  a  venture,  if  we  will  let  Him  guide  us. 

Or  if  ever  the  work  be  seen  clearly  enough,  but  oui 


76  "THE  HANDS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOB.' 

poor  hands  cannot  take  aim  for  very  trembling,  or  shoot 
for  fear  of  striking  something  very  dear  to  us,  He  will 
steady  our  nerves  and  make  our  aim  sure  and  true.  We 
have  often,  in  our  fight  with  ourselves,  and  in  our  struggle 
to  get  God's  will  done  in  the  world,  to  face  as  cruel  a 
perplexity  as  the  father  who  had  to  split  the  apple  on  his 
son's  head.  The  evil  against  which  we  have  to  contend  is 
often  so  closely  connected  with  things  very  precious  to 
us,  that  i*  is  hard  to  smite  the  one  when  there  is  such 
danger  of  grazing  the  other.  Many  a  time  our  tastes,  our 
likings,  our  prejudices,  our  hopes,  our  loves,  make  our 
sight  dim,  and  our  pulses  too  tumultuous  to  allow  of  a 
good  long  steady  gaze  and  a  certain  aim.  It  is  hard  to 
keep  the  arrow  point  firm  when  the  heart  throbs  and  the 
hand  shakes.  But  in  all  such  difficult  times  He  is  ready 
to  help  us.  "  Behold,  we  know  not  what  to  do,  but  oui 
eyes  are  upon  Thee,"  is  a  prayer  never  offered  in  vain. 

The  word  that  is  here  rendered  '*  made  strong,"  might 
be  translated  "made  pliable,"  or  "flexible,"  conveying 
the  notion  of  deftness  and  dexterity  rather  than  that 
of  simple  strength.  It  is  practised  strength  that  He 
will  give,  the  educated  hand  and  arm,  master  of  all  the 
manipulation  of  the  weapon.  The  stiffness  and  clumsi- 
ness of  our  handling,  the  obstinate  rigidity  as  well  as  the 
throbbing  feebleness  of  our  arms,  the  dimness  of  our  sight, 
may  all  be  overcome.  At  His  touch  the  raw  recruit  is  as 
the  disciplined  veteran ;  the  prophet  who  cannot  speak 
because  he  is  a  child,  gifted  with  a  mouth  and  wisdom 
which  all  the  adversaries  shall  not  be  able  to  gainsay  nor 
to  resist.  Do  not  be  disheartened  by  your  inexperience, 
or  by  your  ignorance ;  but  as  the  prophet  said  to  the 
young  king,  Take  the  bow  and  shoot-  God's  strong  hand 
irill  hold  yours^  and  the  arrow  will  fly  true. 


"THE  HANDS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOB."  77 

The  strong  hand  is  laid  on  ours,  and  lends  its  weight  to 
our  feeble  pull.  The  bow  is  often  too  heavy  for  us  to 
bend,  but  we  do  not  need  to  strain  our  strength  in  the 
vain  attempt  to  do  it  alone.  Tasks  seem  too  much  for 
us.  The  pressure  of  our  daily  work  overwhelms  us.  The 
burden  of  our  daily  anxieties  and  sorrows  is  too  much. 
Some  huge  obstacle  starts  up  in  our  path.  Some  great 
sacrifice  for  truth,  honour,  duty,  which  we  feel  we  cannot 
make,  is  demanded  of  us.  Some  daring  defiance  of  some 
evil,  which  has  caught  us  in  its  toils,  or  which  it  is  un- 
fashionable to  fight  against,  seems  laid  upon  us.  We 
cannot  rise  to  the  height  of  the  occasion,  or  bring  our- 
selves to  the  wrench  that  is  required.  Or  the  wearing 
recurrence  of  monotonous  duties  seems  to  take  all  fresh- 
ness out  of  our  lives,  and  all  spring  out  of  ourselves ;  and 
we  are  ready  to  give  over  struggling  any  more,  and  let  our- 
selves drift.  Can  we  not  feel  that  large  hand  laid  on  ours ; 
and  does  not  power,  more  and  other  than  our  own,  creep 
into  our  numb  and  relaxed  fingers  ?  Yes,  if  we  will  let 
Him.  His  strength  is  made  perfect  in  our  weakness; 
and  every  man  and  woman  who  will  make  life  a  noble 
struggle  against  evil,  vanity,  or  sin,  may  be  very  sure  that 
God  will  direct  and  strengthen  their  hands  to  war,  and 
their  fingers  to  fight. 

But  the  remarkable  metaphor  of  the  text  not  only  gives 
the  fact  of  Divine  strength  being  bestowed,  but  also 
the  manner  of  the  gift.  What  a  boldness  of  reverent 
familiarity  there  is  in  that  symbol  of  the  hands  of  God 
laid  on  the  hands  of  the  man  !  How  strongly  it  puts  the 
contact  between  us  and  Him  as  the  condition  of  our 
reception  of  power  from  Him !  A  true  touch,  as  of  hand 
to  hand,  conveys  the  grace.  It  is  as  when  the  prophet 
Uid  himself  down  with  his  warm  lip  on  the  dead  boy'f 


78   'THE  HANDS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOB. 

cold  mouth,  and  his  heart  beatmg  against  the  still  heart 
of  the  corpse,  till  the  life  passed  into  the  clay,  and  the 
lad  lived.  So,  if  we  may  say  it,  our  Quickener  bends 
Himself  over  all  our  deadness,  and  by  His  own  warmth 
re-animates  us. 

Perhaps  this  same  thought  is  one  of  the  lessons  which 
we  are  meant  to  learn  from  the  frequency  with  which 
our  Lord  wrought  His  miracles  d  healing  by  the  touch 
of  His  hand.  "  Come  and  lay  Thy  hand  on  him,  and  he 
shall  live."  "  And  He  put  forth  His  hand  and  touched 
him,  and  said,  I  will,  be  thou  clean."  "  Many  said.  He 
is  dead ;  but  Jesus  took  him  by  the  hand  and  lifted  him 
up,  and  he  arose."  The  touch  of  His  hand  is  healing 
and  hfe.  The  touch  of  our  hands  is  faith.  In  the  mystery 
of  His  incarnation,  in  the  flow  of  His  sympathy,  in  the 
forth-putting  of  His  power.  He  lays  hold  not  on  angels, 
but  He  lays  hold  on  the  seed  of  Abraham.  By  our  lowly 
trust,  by  the  forth-putting  of  our  desires,  we  stretch 
"  lame  hands  of  faith,"  and,  blessed  be  God !  we  do  not 
"*  grope,"  but  we  grasp  His  strong  hand  and  are  held  up. 

The  contact  of  our  spirits  with  His  Spirit  is  a  contact 
far  more  real  than  the  touch  of  earthly  hands  that  grasp 
each  other  closest.  There  is  ever  some  film  of  atmo- 
sphere between  the  palms.  But  "  he  that  is  joined  to 
the  Lord  is  one  spirit,"  and  he  that  clasps  Christ's  out- 
stretched hand  of  help  with  his  outstretched  hand  of 
weakness,  holds  Him  with  a  closeness  to  which  all  unions 
of  earth  are  gaping  gulfs  of  separation.  You  remember 
how  Mary  cast  herself  at  Christ's  feet  on  the  resurrection 
morning,  and  would  have  flung  her  arms  round  them  in 
the  passion  of  her  joy.  The  calm  word  which  checked 
her  has  a  wonderful  promise  in  it.  "  Touch  me  not,  for 
I  am  not  yet  ascended  to  my  Father ; "  plainly  leading 


"THE  HANDS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOB/'  79 

to  the  inference,  "  When  I  am  ascended,  then  you  may 
touch  Me."  And  that  touch  will  be  more  reverent,  more 
close,  more  blessed,  than  any  clasping  of  His  feet,  even 
with  sucii  loving  hands,  and  will  be  possible  for  us  all  for 
evennore. 

Nothing  but  such  contact  vdW  give  us  strength  for 
conflict  and  for  conquest.  And  the  plain  lesson  therefore 
is — see  to  it,  that  the  contact  is  not  broken  by  you.  Put 
away  the  metaphor,  and  the  simple  English  of  the  advice 
is  just  this  :— First,  live  in  the  desire  and  the  confidence 
of  His  help  in  all  our  need,  of  His  strength  as  all  our 
power.  As  a  part  of  that  confidence — its  reverse  and 
under  side,  so  to  speak — cherish  the  profound  sense  of 
your  own  weakness. 

'*  In  our  own  strength  we  nothing  can  ; 
Full  soon  were  we  down-ridden  " — 

as  Luther  has  taught  us  to  sing.  Let  there  be  a  constant 
renewal,  in  the  midst  of  our  duties  and  trials,  of  that 
conscious  dependence  and  feeling  of  insufficiency. 
Stretch  out  the  empty  hands  to  Him  in  that  desire  and 
hope,  which,  spoken  or  silent,  is  prayer.  Keep  the  com- 
.Tiunications  open,  by  which  His  strength  flows  into  your 
souls.  Let  them  not  be  choked  with  self-confidence, 
with  vanities,  with  the  rubbish  of  your  own  nature,  or  of 
the  world.  Do  not  twitch  away  your  hands  from  under 
the  strong  hands  that  are  laid  so  gently  upon  them.  But 
let  Him  cover,  direct,  cherish,  and  strengthen  your  poor 
''iigers  till  they  are  strong  and  nimble  for  all  your  work 
•aid  warfare.  If  you  go  into  the  fight  trusting  to  your 
own  wit  and  wisdom,  to  the  vigour  of  your  own  arm,  or 
the  courage  of  your  own  heart,  that  very  fool-hardy  con- 
fidence is  itself  defeat,  for  it  is  sin  as  well  as  folly,  and 


8o  "THE  HANDS  OF  THE  MIGHTY  GOD  OF  JACOB." 

nothing  can  come  of  it  but  utter  collapse  and  disaster. 
But  if  you  will  only  go  to  your  daily  fight  with  yourseli 
and  the  world,  with  your  hand  grasping  God's  hand, 
you  will  be  able  to  withstand  in  the  evil  day,  and  having 
done  all,  to  stand.  The  enemies  may  compass  you 
about  like  bees,  but  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  you  can 
destroy.  Their  arrows  may  fly  thick  enough  to  darken 
the  sun,  but,  as  the  proud  old  boast  has  it,  "  then  we  can 
fight  in  the  shade  ; "  and  when  their  harmless  points 
have  buried  themselves  in  the  ground,  you  will  st^md 
unhurt,  your  unshivered  bow  ready  for  the  next  assault, 
and  your  hands  made  strong  by  the  hands  of  the  mighty 
God  of  Jacob.  '  In  all  these  things  we  are  more  tiian 
conquerors,  through  Him  that  loved  *•.*' 


THE  SHEPHERD,  THE  STONE  OF  ISRAEL 


Genesis  xlix.  24. 


.  .  The  Mighty  God  of  Jacob.    From  thence  is  the  Shepherd, 
the  stone  of  Israel. 

A  SLIGHT  alteration  in  the  rendering  will  probably 
bring  out  the  meaning  of  these  words  more  cor- 
rectly. The  last  two  clauses  should  perhaps  not  be  read 
as  a  separate  sentence.  Striking  out  the  supplement 
"  is,"  and  letting  the  previous  sentence  run  on  to  the  end 
of  the  verse,  we  get  a  series  of  names  of  God,  in  apposi- 
tion with  each  other,  as  the  sources  of  the  strength  pro- 
mised to  the  arms  of  the  hands  of  the  warlike  sons  of 
Joseph.  From  the  hands  of  the  mighty  God  of  Jacob — 
from  thence,  from  the  Shepherd,  the  stone  of  Israel — the 
power  will  come  for  conflict  and  for  conquest.  This 
exuberant  heaping  together  of  names  of  God  is  the  mark 
of  the  flash  of  rapturous  confidence  which  lit  up  the 
dying  man's  thoughts  when  they  turned  to  God.  When 
he  begins  to  think  of  Him  he  cannot  stay  his  tongue. 
So  many  aspects  of  His  character,  so  many  remembrances 
of  His  deeds,  come  crowding  into  his  mind ;  so  familiar 
and  so  dear  are  they,  that  he  must  linger  over  the  words, 
tnd  strive  by  this  triple  repetition  to  express  the  manifold 

o 


$2       THE  SHEPHERD,  THE  STONE  OF  ISRAEL. 

preciousness  of  Him  whom  no  name,  nor  crowd  of  names, 
can  rightly  praise.  So  earthly  love  ever  does  with  its 
earthly  objects,  inventing  and  reiterating  epithets  which 
are  caresses.  Such  repetitions  are  not  tautologies,  for  each 
utters  some  new  aspect  of  the  one  subject,  and  comes 
from  a  new  gush  of  heart's  love  towards  it.  And  some- 
thing of  the  same  rapture  and  unwearied  recurrence  to 
the  Name  that  is  above  every  name  should  mark  the 
communion  of  devout  souls  with  their  heavenly  Love. 
What  a  wonderful  burst  of  such  praise  flowed  out  from 
David's  thankful  heart,  in  his  day  of  deliverance,  like 
some  strong  cun-ent,  with  its  sevenfold  wave,  each  crested 
with  the  Name !  ''  The  Lord  is  ray  rock,  and  my  fortress, 
and  my  deliverer :  my  God,  my  strength,  in  whom  I  will 
trust  j  my  buckler,  and  the  horn  of  my  salvation,  and  my 
high  tower." 

These  three  names  which  we  find  here  are  striking  and 
beautiful  in  themselves ;  in  their  juxtaposition ;  in  their 
use  on  Jacob's  lips.  They  seem  to  have  been  all  coined 
by  him,  for,  if  we  accept  this  song  as  a  true  prophecy 
uttered  by  him,  we  have  here  the  earliest  instance  of  their 
occurrence.  They  have  all  a  history,  and  appear  again 
expanded  and  deepened  in  the  subsequent  Revelation. 
Let  us  look  at  them  as  they  stand. 

I.  TTie  Mighty  God  of  Jacob.  The  meaning  of  such  a 
name  is  clear  enough.  It  is  He  who  has  shown  Himself 
mighty  and  mine  by  His  deeds  for  me  all  through  my  life. 
The  dying  man's  thoughts  are  busy  with  all  that  past 
from  the  day  when  he  went  forth  from  the  tent  of  Isaac, 
and  took  of  the  stones  of  the  field  for  his  pillow  when 
the  sun  went  down.  A  perplexed  history  it  had  been, 
with  many  a  bitter  sorrow,  and  many  a  yet  bitterer  sin. 
Passionate  grief  and  despairing  murmurs  he  had  felt  and 


THE  SHEPHERD,  THE  STONE  OF  ISRAEL.        83 

flung  out,  while  it  slowly  unfolded  itself.  When  the 
Pharaoh  had  asked,  "  how  old  art  thou?"  he  had  answered 
in  words  which  owe  their  sombreness  partly  to  obsequious 
assumption  of  insignificance  in  such  a  presence,  but 
have  a  strong  tinge  of  genuine  sadness  in  them  too: 
"  Few  and  evil  have  the  days  of  the  years  of  my  life  been." 
But  lying  dying  there,  with  it  all  well  behind  him,  he  has 
become  wiser ;  and  now  it  all  looks  to  him  as  one  long 
showing  forth  of  the  might  of  his  God,  who  had  been  with 
him  all  his  life  long,  and  had  redeemed  him  from  all  evil. 
He  has  got  far  enough  away  to  see  the  lie  of  the  land,  as 
he  could  not  do  while  he  was  toiling  along  the  road.  The 
barren  rocks  and  white  snow  glow  with  purple  as  the 
setting  sun  touches  them.  The  struggles  with  Laban ;  the 
fear  of  Esau ;  the  weary  work  of  toilsome  years ;  the  sad 
day  when  Rachel  died,  and  left  him  the  "  son  of  her  sor- 
row ; "  the  heart  sickness  of  the  long  years  of  Joseph's  loss 
— all  have  faded  away,  or  been  changed  into  thankful 
wonder  at  God's  guidance.  The  one  thought  which  the 
dying  man  carries  out  of  life  with  him  is  :  God  has  shown 
Himself  mighty,  and  He  has  shown  Himself  mine. 

For  each  of  us,  our  own  experience  should  be  a  revela- 
tion of  God.  The  things  about  Him  which  we  read  in  the 
Bible  are  never  living  and  real  to  us  till  we  have  verified 
them  in  the  facts  of  our  own  history.  Many  a  word  lies 
on  the  page,  or  in  our  memories,  fully  believed  and 
utterly  shadowy,  until  in  some  soul's  conflict  we  have  had 
to  grasp  it,  and  found  it  true.  Only  so  much  of  our 
creed  as  we  have  proved  in  life  is  really  ours.  If  we  will 
only  open  our  eyes  and  reflect  upon  our  history  as  it 
passes  before  us,  we  shall  find  every  comer  of  it  filled 
with  the  manifestations  to  our  hearts  and  to  our  minds  of 
a  present  God.     But  our  folly,  our  stup'dity,  our  im- 


&4        THE  SHEPHERD,  THE  STONE  OF  ISRAEL. 

patience,  our  absorption  with  the  mere  outsides  of  things, 
our  selfwill,  blind  us  to  the  Angel  with  the  drawn  sword 
who  resists  us,  as  well  as  to  the  Angel  with  the  lily  who 
would  lead  us.  So  we  waste  our  days  ;  are  deaf  to  His 
voice  speaking  through  all  the  clatter  of  tongues,  and 
blind  to  His  bright  presence  shining  through  all  the  dim- 
ness of  earth ;  and,  for  far  too  many  of  us,  we  never  can 
see  God  in  the  present,  but  only  discern  Him  when  He 
has  passed  by,  like  Moses  from  his  cleft.  Like  this  same 
Jacob,  we  have  to  say :  "  Surely  God  was  in  this  place, 
and  I  knew  it  not."  Hence  we  miss  the  educational 
worth  of  our  lives  ;  are  tortured  with  needless  cares ;  are 
beaten  by  the  poorest  adversaries ;  and  grope  amidst  what 
seems  to  us  a  chaos  of  pathless  perplexities,  when  we 
might  be  marching  on  assured  and  strong,  with  God  for 
our  guide,  and  the  hands  of  the  Mighty  One  of  Jacob  for 
our  defence. 

Notice,  too,  how  distinctly  the  thought  comes  out  in  this 
name, — that  the  very  vital  centre  of  a  man's  religion  is  his 
conviction  that  God  is  his.  He  will  not  be  content  with 
thinking  of  God  as  the  God  of  his  fathers  ;  he  will  not 
even  be  content  with  associating  himself  with  them  in  the 
common  possession  ;  but  he  must  feel  the  full  force  of  the 
intensely  personal  bond  that  knits  him  to  God,  and  God  to 
him.  Of  course  such  a  feeling  does  not  ignore  the  blessed 
fellowship  and  family  who  also  are  held  in  this  bond. 
The  God  of  Jacob  is  to  the  patriarch  also  the  God  of 
Abraham,  and  of  Isaac,  and  of  Jacob.  But  that  comes 
second,  and  this  comes  first.  Each  man  for  himself 
must  put  forth  the  hand  of  his  own  faith,  and  grasp  that 
great  hand  for  his  own  guide.  "  My  Lord  and  my  God  " 
is  the  true  form  of  the  confession.  **  He  loved  me  and 
gave  Himself  for  me"  is  the  shape  in  which  the  Gospel  of 


THE  SHEPHERD,  THE  STONE  OF  ISRAEL.        8«i 

Christ  melts  the  soul.  God  is  mine  because  His  love  indi- 
viduaUzes  me,  and  I  have  a  distinct  place  in  His  heart, 
His  purposes,  and  His  deeds.  God  is  mine,  because  by 
my  own  individual  act — the  most  personal  which  I  can 
perform — I  cast  myself  on  Him  ;  by  my  faith  appropriate 
the  common  salvation ;  and  open  my  being  to  the  inflow 
of  His  power,  God  is  mine,  and  I  am  His,  in  that  won- 
derful mutual  possession,  with  perpetual  interchange  of 
giving  and  receiving  not  only  gifts  but  selves,  which 
makes  the  very  life  of  love,  whether  it  be  love  on  earth 
or  love  in  heaven. 

Remember,  too,  the  profound  use  which  our  Lord 
made  of  this  name  wherein  the  man  claims  to  possess 
God.  Because  Moses  at  the  bush  called  God,  the  God 
of  Abraham,  and  of  Isaac,  and  of  Jacob,  they  cannot 
have  ceased  to  be.  The  personal  relations  which  subsist 
between  God  and  the  soul  that  clasps  Him  for  its  own 
demand  an  immortal  life  for  their  adequate  expression, 
and  make  it  impossible  that  death's  skeleton  fingers 
should  have  power  to  untie  such  a  bond.  Anything  is 
conceivable,  rather  than  that  the  soul  which  can  say 
"  God  is  mine "  should  perish.  And  that  continued 
existence  demands,  too,  a  state  of  being  which  shall  cor 
respond  to  itself,  in  which  its  powers  shall  all  be  exer- 
cised, its  desires  fulfilled,  its  possibilities  made  facts. 
Therefore  there  must  be  "  the  resurrection."  "  God  is 
not  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God,  for  He  hath  prepared 
for  them  a  city." 

The  dying  patriarch  left  to  his  descendants  the  legacy 
of  this  great  name,  and  often,  in  later  times,  it  was  used 
to  quicken  faith  by  the  remembrance  of  the  great  deeds 
of  God  in  the  past  One  instance  may  serve  as  a  sample 
of  the  whole.     ''  The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  with  us,  the  God 


86        THE  SHEPHERD,  THE  STONE  OF  ISRAEL 

of  Jacob  is  our  refuge."  The  first  of  these  two  names 
lays  the  foundation  of  our  confidence  in  the  thought  of 
the  boundless  power  of  Him  whom  all  the  forces  of  the 
universe,  personal  and  impersonal,  angels  and  stars,  in 
their  marshalled  order,  obey  and  serve.  The  second  bids 
later  generations  claim  as  theirs  all  that  the  old  history 
reveals  as  having  belonged  to  the  "world's  grey  fathers." 
They  had  no  special  prerogative  of  nearness  or  of  pos- 
session. The  arrn  that  guided  them  is  unwearied,  and  all 
the  past  is  true  still,  and  will  for  evermore  be  true  for  all 
who  love  God.  So  the  venerable  name  is  full  of  promise 
and  of  hope  for  us  :  "  the  God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge." 

2.  The  ShepJurd.  How  that  name  sums  up  the  lessons 
that  Jacob  had  learned  from  the  work  of  himself  and  of 
his  sons  !  '*  Thy  servants  are  shepherds,"  they  said  to 
Pharaoh  ;  "  both  we,  and  also  our  sons."  For  fourteen 
long  weary  years  he  had  toiled  at  that  task.  "  In  the 
day  the  drought  consumed  me,  and  the  frost  by  night ; 
and  my  sleep  departed  from  mine  eyes."  And  his  own 
sleepless  vigilance  and  patient  endurance  seem  to  him  to 
be  but  shadows  of  the  loving  care,  the  watchful  protection, 
the  strong  defence,  which  "  the  God,  who  has  been  my 
Shepherd  all  my  life  long,"  had  extended  to  him  and  his. 
Long  before  the  shepherd  king,  who  had  been  taken  from 
the  sheepcotes  to  rule  over  Israel,  sang  his  immortal 
psalm,  the  same  occupation  had  suggested  the  same 
thought  to  the  shepherd  patriarch.  Happy  they  whose 
daily  work  may  picture  for  them  some  aspect  of  God's 
care — or  rather,  happy  they  whose  eyes  are  open  to  see 
the  dim  likeness  of  God's  care  which  every  man's  earthly 
relations,  and  some  part  of  his  work,  most  certainly 
present 

There  can  be  no  need  to  draw  out  at  length  the 


THE  SlIElMILkl).  THE  SrONE  OF  ISRAEL.         87 

thoughts  which  that  sweet  and  famiUar  emblem  has 
conveyed  to  so  many  generations.  Loving  care,  wise 
guidance,  fitting  food,  are  promised  by  it ;  and  docile 
submission,  close  following  at  the  Shepherd's  heels, 
patience,  innocence,  meekness,  trust,  are  required.  But 
I  may  put  emphasis  for  a  moment  on  the  connection 
between  the  thought  of  "  the  mighty  God  of  Jacob  "  and 
that  of  "  the  Shepherd."  The  occupation,  as  we  see  it, 
does  not  call  for  a  strong  arm,  or  much  courage,  except 
now  and  then  to  wade  through  snow-drifts,  and  dig  out  the 
buried  and  half-dead  creatures.  But  the  shepherds  whom 
Jacob  knew,  had  to  be  hardy,  bold  fighters.  There  were 
marauders  lurking  ready  to  sweep  away  a  weakly  guarded 
flock.  There  were  wild  beasts  in  the  gorges  of  the  hills. 
There  was  danger  in  the  sun  by  day  on  these  burning 
plains,  and  in  the  night  the  wolves  prowled  round  the 
flock.  We  remember  how  David's  earliest  exploits  were 
against  the  lion  and  the  bear,  and  how  he  felt  that  even  his 
duel  with  the  Philistine  bully  was  not  more  formidable  than 
these  had  been.  If  we  will  read  into  our  English  notions 
of  a  shepherd  this  element  of  danger  and  of  daring,  we 
shall  feel  that  these  two  clauses  are  not  to  be  taken  as 
giving  the  contrasted  ideas  of  strength  and  gentleness, 
but  the  connected  ones  of  strength,  and  therefore  pro- 
tection and  security.  We  have  the  same  connection  in 
later  echoes  of  this  name.  "  Behold,  the  Lord  God  shall 
come  with  strong  hand ;  He  shall  feed  His  flock  like  a 
shepherd."  And  our  Lord's  use  of  the  figure  brings  into 
all  but  exclusive  prominence  the  good  shepherd's  con- 
flict with  the  ravening  wolves — a  conflict  in  which  he 
must  not  hesitate  even  "  to  lay  down  his  life  for  the 
sheep."  As  long  as  the  flock  are  here,  amidst  dangers, 
and  foes,  and  wild  weather,  the  arm  that  guides  must  )e 


8&        THh  ^HKl'lILRi),   rUK  hJOxXt  OF  ISRAEL. 

an  arm  that  guards ;  and  none  less  mighty  than  the 
Mighty  One  of  Jacob  can  be  the  Shepherd  of  men.  But 
a  higher  fulfilment  yet  awaits  this  venerable  emblem, 
when  in  other  pastures,  where  no  lion  nor  any  ravening 
beast  shall  come,  the  "  Lamb,  which  is  in  the  midst  of 
the  throne,"  and  is  Shepherd  as  well  as  Lamb,  "  shall 
feed  them,  and  lead  them  by  living  fountains  of  waters." 

3.  The  Stone  of  Israel.  Here,  again,  we  have  a  name, 
that  after-ages  have  caught  up  and  cherished,  used  for 
the  first  time.  I  suppose  the  Stone  of  Israel  means  much 
the  same  thing  as  the  Rock.  If  so,  that  symbol,  too, 
which  is  full  of  such  large  meanings,  was  coined  by 
Jacob.  It  is,  perhaps,  not  fanciful  to  suppose  that  il 
owes  its  origin  to  the  scenery  of  Palestine.  The  wild 
cliffs  of  the  eastern  region  where  Peniel  lay,  or  the  savage 
fastnesses  in  the  southern  wilderness,  a  day's  march  from 
Hebron,  where  he  lived  so  long,  came  back  to  his 
memory  amid  the  flat,  clay  land  of  Egypt;  and  their 
towering  height,  their  immovable  firmness,  their  cool 
shade,  their  safe  shelter,  spoke  to  him  of  the  unalterable 
might  and  impregnable  defence  which  he  had  found  in 
God.  So  there  is  in  this  name  the  same  devout,  reflect- 
ive laying-hold  upon  experience  which  we  have  observed 
in  the  preceding. 

There  is  also  the  same  individualizing  grasp  of  God  as 
his  very  own ;  for  ''  Israel "  here  is,  of  course,  to  be  taken 
not  as  the  name  of  the  nation  but  as  his  own  name,  and 
the  intention  of  the  phrase  is  evidently  to  express  what 
God  had  been  to  him  personally. 

The  general  idea  of  this  symbol  is  perhaps  firmness, 
solidity.  And  that  general  idea  may  be  followed  out  in  vari- 
ous details.  God  is  a  rock  for  a  foundation.  Build  your 
lives,  your  thoughts,  your  efforts,  your  hopes  there.     The 


THE  SHEPHERD,  THE  STONE  OF  ISRAEL.        89 

house  founded  on  the  rock  will  stand  though  wind  and 
rain  from  above  smite  it,  and  floods  from  beneath  beat  on 
it  like  battering-rams.  God  is  a  rock  for  a  fortress.  Flee 
to  Him  to  hide,  and  your  defence  shall  be  the  "muni- 
tions of  rocks,"  which  shall  laugh  to  scorn  all  assault,  and 
never  be  stormed  by  any  foe.  God  is  a  rock  for  shade 
and  refreshment.  Come  close  to  Him  from  out  of  the 
scorching  heat,  and  you  will  find  coolness  and  verdure 
and  moisture  in  the  clefts,  when  all  outside  that  grateful 
shadow  is  parched  and  dry. 

The  word  of  the  dying  Jacob  was  caught  up  by  the 
great  law-giver  in  his  dying  song.  "  Ascribe  ye  greatness 
to  our  God.  He  is  the  Rock."  It  reappears  in  the  last 
words  of  the  shepherd  king,  whose  grand  prophetic 
picture  of  the  true  King  is  heralded  by  "  The  Rock  of 
Israel  spake  to  me.  It  is  heard  once  more  from  the  lips 
of  the  greatest  of  the  prophets  in  his  glowing  prophecy  of 
the  song  of  the  final  days  :  "  Trust  ye  in  the  Lord  for  ever ; 
for  in  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  the  Rock  of  Ages,"  as  well  as 
ill  his  solemn  prophecy  of  the  Stone  which  God  would  lay 
in  Zion.  We  hear  it  again  from  the  lips  that  cannot  lie. 
"  Did  ye  never  read  in  the  Scriptures,  The  Stone  which  the 
builders  rejected,  the  same  is  become  the  head-stone  of 
the  corner  ?  "  And  for  the  last  time  the  venerable  meta- 
phor which  has  cheered  so  many  ages  appears  in  the 
words  of  that  Apostle  who  was  "  surnamed  Cephas,  which 
is  by  interpretation  a  stone."  "  To  whom  coming  as  unto 
a  living  stone,  ye  also  as  living  stones  are  built  up."  As 
on  some  rocky  site  in  Palestine,  where  a  thousand  genera- 
tions in  succession  have  made  their  fortresses,  one  may 
see  stones  laid  with  the  bevel  that  tells  of  early  Jewish 
masonr>',  and  above  them  Roman  work,  and  higher  still 
masonry  of  crusading  times,  and  above  it  the  building  oi 


90        TUE  SHEPHERD,  THE  STONE  OF  ISRAEU 

today ;  so  we,  each  age  in  our  turn,  build  on  this  great 
rock  foundation,  dwell  safe  there  for  our  little  lives,  and  are 
laid  to  peaceful  rest  in  a  sepulchre  in  the  rock.  On 
Christ  we  may  build.  In  Him  we  may  dwell  and  rest 
secure.  We  may  die  in  Jesus,  and  be  gathered  to  our 
owTi  people,  who,  having  died,  live  in  Him.  And  though 
so  many  generations  have  reared  their  dwellings  on  that 
greai  rock,  there  is  ample  room  for  us  too  to  build.  We 
have  not  to  content  ourselves  with  an  uncertain  founda- 
tion among  the  shifting  rubbish  of  perished  dwellings,  but 
can  get  down  to  the  firm  virgin  rock  for  ourselves.  None 
that  ever  builded  there  have  been  coiitbunded.  We  clasp 
hands  with  all  who  have  gone  before  us.  At  one  end  ot 
the  long  chain  this  dim  figure  of  the  d)dng  Jacob,  amid 
the  strange  vanished  life  of  Egypt,  stretches  out  his 
withered  hands  to  God  the  stone  of  Israel ;  at  the  other 
end,  we  lift  up  ours  to  Jesus,  and  cry : 

*'  Rock  of  Ages  1  cleft  for  me, 
Let  me  hide  myself  in  Thee." 

The  faith  is  one.    One  will  be  the  answer  and  the  reward 
May  it  be  yours  and  miae  1 


XI. 

THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD. 


John  viii.  12. 

I  am  the  Light  of  the  World.     He  that  followeth  Me  shall  not 
walk  in  darkness,  but  shall  have  the  Light  of  Life. 

JESUS  CHRIST  was  His  own  great  theme.  Whatever 
be  the  explanation  of  the  fact,  there  stands  the  fact* 
that,  if  we  know  anything  at  all  about  his  habitual  tone 
of  teaching,  we  know  that  it  was  full  of  Himself.  We 
know,  too,  that  what  He  said  about  Himself  was  very  un- 
like the  language  becoming  a  wise  and  humble  religious 
teacher.  Both  the  prominence  given  to  His  own  per 
sonality,  and  the  tremendous  claims  He  advances  for 
Himself,  are  hard  to  reconcile  with  any  conception  of 
His  nature  and  work  except  one, — that  there  we  have  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh.  Are  such  words  as  these  fit  to  be 
spoken  by  any  man  conscious  of  his  own  limitations  and 
imperfections  of  life  and  knowledge  ?  Would  they  not  be 
fatal  to  anybody's  pretensions  to  be  a  teacher  of  religion 
or  morality  ?  They  assert  that  the  speaker  is  the  source 
of  illumination  for  the  whole  world ;  the  only  source ;  the 
source  for  all.  They  assert  that  "  following  "  Him,  whether 
in  belief  or  in  deed,  is  the  sure  deliverance  from  all 
darkness,  either  of  error  or  of  sin ;  and  implants  in  every 


93  THE  LIGHT  OF  THE   WORLD. 

follower  a  light  which  is  life  !     And  the  world,  instead  of 

turning  away,  from  such  monstrous  assumptions,  and 
drowning  them  in  scornful  laughter,  or  rebelling  against 
them,  has  listened,  and  largely  believed,  and  has  not  felt 
them  to  mar  the  beauty  of  meekness,  which,  by  a  strange 
anomaly,  this  Man  says  he  has. 

Words  parallel  to  these  are  frequent  on  our  Lord's  lips. 
In  each  instance  they  have  some  special  appropriateness  of 
application,  as  is  probably  the  case  here.  The  suggestion 
has  been  reasonably  made,  that  there  is  an  allusion  in 
them  to  part  of  the  ceremonial  connected  withithe  Feast 
of  Tabernacles,  at  which  we  find  our  Lord  present  in  the 
previous  chapter.  Commentators  tell  us  that  on  the  first 
evening  of  the  feast,  two  huge  golden  lamps,  which  stood 
one  on  each  side  of  the  altar  of  burnt  offering  in  the 
temple  court,  were  lighted  as  the  night  began  to  fall,  and 
poured  out  a  brilliant  flood  over  temple,  and  city,  and 
deep  gorge ;  while  far  into  the  midnight,  troops  of 
rejoicing  worshippers  clustered  about  them  with  dance 
and  song.  The  possibility  of  this  reference  is  strength- 
ened by  the  note  of  place  which  our  EvangeHst  gives. 
"  These  things  spake  Jesus  in  the  treasury,  as  He  taught 
in  the  temple,"  for  the  "  treasury "  stood  in  the  same 
court,  and  doubtless  the  golden  lamps  were  full  in  sight 
of  the  listening  groups.  It  is  also  strengthened  by  the 
unmistakeable  allusion  in  the  previous  chapter  to  another 
portion  of  the  ceremonial  of  the  feast,  where  our  Lord  puts 
forth  another  of  His  great  self-revelations  and  demands,  in 
singular  parallelism  with  that  of  our  text,  in  the  words  : 
"  If  any  man  thu-st,  let  him  come  unto  Me  and  drink." 
That  refers  to  the  custom  during  the  feast  of  drawing 
▼ater  fix)m  the  fountain  of  Siloam,  which  was  poured  out 
QO  the  altar,  while  the  gathered  multitude  chanted  the 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE   WORLD.  93 

old  strain  of  Isaiah's  prophecy  :  *'  With  joy  shall  ye  draw 
water  out  of  the  wells  of  salvation."  It  is  to  be  remem- 
bered, too,  in  estimating  the  probability  of  our  text  belong- 
ing to  these  temple-sayings  at  the  feast,  that  the  section 
which  separates  it  from  them,  and  contains  the  story 
about  the  woman  taken  in  adultery,  is  judged  by  the  be'st 
critics  to  be  out  of  place  here,  and  is  not  found  in  the 
most  valuable  manuscripts.  If,  then,  we  suppose  this 
allusion  to  be  fairly  probable,  I  think  it  gives  a  special 
direction  and  meaning  to  these  grand  words,  which  it  may 
be  worth  while  to  think  of  briefly. 

The  first  thing  to  notice  is — the  intention  of  the 
ceremonial  which  our  Lord  here  points  to  as  a  symbol 
of  Himself.  What  was  the  meaning  of  these  greut  lights 
that  went  flashing  through  the  warm  autumn  nights  of 
the  festival  ?  All  the  parts  of  that  feast  were  intended 
to  recall  some  feature  of  the  forty  years'  wanderings  in 
the  wilderness  ;  the  lights  by  the  altar  were  memorials 
of  the  pillar  of  cloud  by  day  and  of  fire  by  night 
When,  then,  Jeeus  says,  "  I  am  the  Light  of  the  world," 
He  would  declare  Himself  as  being  in  reality,  and  to 
every  soul  of  man  to  the  end  of  time,  what  that  cloud 
with  its  heart  of  fire  was  in  outward  seeming  to  one 
generation  of  desert  wanderers. 

Now,  the  main  thing  which  //  was  to  these,  was  the 
visible  vehicle  of  the  Divine  presence.  "  The  Lord  went 
before  them  in  a  pillar  of  a  cloud."  "  The  Lord  looked 
through  the  pillar."  **  The  Lord  came  down  in  the  cloud 
and  spake  with  him."  The  "  cloud  covered  the  taber- 
nacle, and  the  glory  of  the  Lord  appeared."  Such  is  the 
way  in  which  it  is  ever  spoken  of,  as  being  the  manifest- 
ation to  Israel  in  sensible  form  of  the  presence  among 
them  of  God  their  King.     "  The  glory  of  the  Lord  "  hai 


94  THE  UGHT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

a  very  specific  meaning  in  the  Old  Testament.  It  usually 
signifies  that  brightness,  the  flaming  heart  of  the  cloudy 
pillar,  which  for  the  most  part,  as  it  would. appear,  veiled 
by  the  cloud,  gathered  radiance  as  the  world  grew 
darker  at  set  of  sun;  and  sometimes,  at  great  crises  in 
the  history,  as  at  the  Red  Sea,  or  on  Sinai,  or  in  loving 
communion  with  the  law-giver,  or  in  swift  judgment 
against  the  rebels,  rent  the  veil  and  flamed  on  men's 
eyes.  I  need  not  remind  you  how  this  same  pillar  of 
cloud  and  fire,  which  at  once  manifested  and  hid  God, 
was  thereby  no  unworthy  symbol  of  Him  who  remains, 
after  all  revelation,  unrevealed.  \Vhatsoever  sets  forth, 
must  also  shroud  the  infinite  glory.  Concerning  all  by 
which  He  makes  Himself  known  to  eye,  or  mind,  or 
heart,  it  must  be  said  :  "  And  there  was  the  hiding  of 
His  power."  The  fire  is  ever  folded  in  the  cloud. 
Nay,  at  bottom,  the  light  which  is  full  of  glory  is 
therefore  inaccessible.  And  the  thick  darkness  in  which 
He  dwells  is  but  the  "glorious  privacy"  of  perfect 
light. 

That  guiding  pillar,  which  moved  before  the  moving 
people — a  cloud  to  shelter  from  the  scorching  heat,  a  fire 
to  cheer  in  the  blackness  of  night — spread  itself  above 
the  sanctuary  of  the  wilderness ;  and  "  the  glory  of  the 
Lord  filled  the  tabernacle."  ^Vhen  the  moving  taber- 
nacle gave  place  to  the  fixed  temple,  again  "  th^  cloud 
filled  the  house  of  the  Lord;"  and  there, — dwelling  between 
the  cherubim,  the  types  of  the  whole  order  of  creatural  life ; 
and  above  the  mercy-seat,  that  spoke  of  pardon ;  and  the 
ark  that  held  the  law ;  and  behind  the  veil,  in  the  thick 
darkness  of  the  holy  of  holies,  where  no  feet  trod,  save 
once  a  year  one  white-robed  priest,  in  the  garb  of  a  peni- 
tent, and  bearing  the  blood  that  made  atonement,^ — shone 


THE    LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD.  9S 

the  light  of  the  glory  of  God,  the  visible  majesty  of  the 
present  Deity. 

But  long  centuries  had  passed  since  that  light  had 
departed.  "  The  glory  "  had  ceased  from  the  house  that 
now  stood  on  Zion,  and  the  light  from  between  the 
cherubim.  Shall  we  not,  then,  see  a  deep  meaning  and 
reference  to  that  awful  blank,  when  Jesus  standing  there 
in  the  courts  of  that  temple,  whose  inmost  shrine  was,  in 
a  most  sad  sense,  empty,  pointed  to  the  quenched  lamps 
that  commemorated  a  departed  Shechinah,  and  said,  "  I 
am  the  Light  of  the  world." 

He  is  the  Light  of  the  world,  because  in  Him  is  the 
glory  of  God.  His  words  are  madness,  and  something 
very  like  blasphemy,  unless  they  are  vindicated  by  the 
visible  indwelling  in  Him  of  the  present  God.  The  cloud 
of  the  humanity,  "  the  veil,  that  is  to  say.  His  flesh," 
enfolds  and  tempers ;  and  through  its  transparent  folds 
reveals,  even  while  it  swathes,  the  Godhead.  Like  some 
fleecy  vapour  flitting  across  the  sun,  and  irradiated  by  its 
light,  it  enables  our  weak  eyes  to  see  light,  and  not  dark- 
ness, in  the  else  intolerable  blaze.  Yes  !  Thou  art  the 
Light  of  the  world,  because  in  Thee  dwelleth  the  fulness 
of  the  Godhead  bodily.  Thy  servant  hath  taught  us  the 
meaning  of  Thy  words,  when  he  said  :  "  The  Word  was 
made  flesh,  and  dwelt  among  us ;  and  we  beheld  His 
glory,  the  glory  as  of  the  only  begotten  of  the  Father,  full 
of  grace  and  truth." 

Then,  subordinate  to  this  principal  thought,  is  the 
other  on  which  I  may  touch  for  a  moment — that  Christ, 
like  that  pillar  of  cloud  and  fire,  guides  us  in  our  pilgrim- 
age. You  may  remember  how  emphatically  the  Book  of 
Numbers  (chap,  ix.)  dwells  upon  the  absolute  control  of 
all  the  marches  and  halts  by  the  movements  of  the  cloud 


96  THB  UGHT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

When  it  was  taken  up,  they  journeyed ;  when  it  settled 
down,  they  encamped.  As  long  as  it  lay  spread  above 
the  tabernacle,  there  they  stayed.  Impatient  eyes  might 
look,  and  impatient  spirits  chafe — no  matter.  The  camp 
might  be  pitched  in  a  desolate  place,  away  from  wells 
and  palm-trees,  away  from  shade,  among  fiery  serpents, 
and  open  to  fierce  foes — no  matter.  As  long  as  it  was 
motionless  no  man  stirred.  Weary  slow  days  might  pass 
in  this  compulsory  inactivity ;  but  "  whether  it  were  two 
days,  or  a  month,  or  a  year,  that  the  cloud  tarried  upon 
the  tabernacle,  the  children  of  Israel  journeyed  not." 
And  whenever  it  lifted  itself  up, — no  matter  how  short  had 
been  the  halt,  how  weary  and  footsore  the  people,  how  plea- 
sant the  resting-place, — up  with  the  tent-pegs  immediately, 
and  away.  If  the  signal  were  given  at  midnight,  when  all 
but  the  watchers  slept,  or  at  mid-day,  it  was  all  the  same. 
There  was  the  true  Commander  of  their  march.  It  was 
not  Moses,  nor  Jethro,  with  his  quick  Arab  eye  and 
knowledge  of  the  ground,  that  guided  them  3  but  that 
stately,  solemn  pillar,  that  floated  before  them.  How 
they  must  have  watched  for  the  gathering  up  of  its  folds 
as  they  lay  softly  stretched  along  the  tabernacle  roof! 
and  for  its  sinking  down,  and  spreading  itself  out,  like  a 
misty  hand  of  blessing,  as  it  sailed  in  the  van. 

"  I  am  the  Light  of  the  world."  We  have  in  Him  a 
better  guide  through  worse  perplexities  than  theirs.  By 
His  Spirit  within  us;  by  that  all-sufficient  and  perfect 
example  of  His  life  ;  by  the  word  of  His  Gospel ;  and  by 
the  manifold  indications  of  His  providence ;  Jesus  Christ 
is  our  Guide.  If  ever  we  go  astray,  it  is  not  His  fault, 
but  ours.  How  gentle  and  loving  that  guidance  is  none 
who  have  not  yielded  to  it  can  tell !  How  wise  and  sure, 
Dcme  but  those  who  have  followed  it  know !  He  does  not 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD.  f| 

say  "  Go,"  but  "  Come."  When  He  puts  forth  His  sheep, 
He  goes  *  ofore  them.  In  all  rough  places  His  quick 
Kind  is  put  out  to  save  us.  In  danger  He  lashes  us  to 
Himself,  as  Alpine  guides  do  when  there  is  perilous  ice 
to  get  over.  As  one  of  the  psalms  puts  it,  with  wonderful 
beauty:  "I  will  guide  thee  with  Mine  eye"— a  glance, 
not  a  blow — a  look  of  directing  love,  that  at  once  heartens 
to  duty  and  tells  duty.  We  must  be  very  near  Him  to 
catch  that  look,  and  very  much  in  sympathy  with  Him  to 
understand  it ;  and  when  we  do,  we  must  be  swift  to  obey. 
Our  eyes  must  be  ever  toward  the  Lord,  or  we  shall  often 
be  marching  on,  unwitting  that  the  pillar  has  spread 
itself  for  rest,  or  idly  dawdling  in  our  tents  long  after  the 
cloud  has  gathered  itself  up  for  the  march.  Do  not  let 
impatience  lead  you  to  hasty  interpretation  of  His  plans 
before  they  are  fairly  evolved.  Many  men  by  self-will, 
by  rashness,  by  precipitate  hurry  in  drawing  conclusions 
about  what  they  ought  to  do,  have  ruined  their  lives. 
Take  care,  in  the  old-fashioned  phrase,  '*  of  running 
before  you  are  sent."  There  should  always  be  a  good 
clear  space  between  the  guiding  ark  and  you,  "  about 
two  thousand  cubits  by  measure,"  that  there  may  be  no 
mistakes  about  the  road.  It  is  neither  reverent  nor  wise 
to  be  treading  on  the  heels  of  our  Guide  in  our  eager 
confidence  that  we  know  where  He  wants  us  to  go. 

Do  not  let  the  warmth  by  the  camp-fire,  or  the  pleasant- 
ness of  the  shady  place  where  your  tent  is  pitched,  keep 
you  there  when  the  cloud  lifts.  Be  ready  for  change,  be 
ready  for  continuance,  because  you  are  in  fellowship  with 
your  Leader  and  Commander;  and  let  Him  say,  Go, 
and  you  go ;  Do  this,  and  you  gladly  do  it,  until  the  hour 
when  He  will  whisper.  Come  ;  and,  as  you  come,  the 
river  will  part,  and  the  journey  will  be  over.     And  *'  the 

H 


^  THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

fiery,  cloudy  pillar,"  that  "guided  you  all  your  journey 
through,"  will  spread  itself  out  an  abiding  glory,  in  that 
higher  home  where  "  the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof." 

All  true  following  of  Christ  begins  with  faith,  or  we  might 
almost  say  that  faith  is  following,  for  we  find  our  Lord 
substituting  the  former  expression  for  the  latter  in 
another  passage  of  this  Gospel  parallel  with  the  present. 
*'I  am  come  a  light  into  the  world,  that  whosoever 
believeth  on  Me  should  not  walk  in  darkness."  The  two 
ideas  are  not  equivalent,  but  faith  is  the  condition  of 
following ;  and  following  is  the  outcome  and  test,  because 
it  is  the  operation  of  faith.  None  but  they  who  trust 
Him  will  follow  Him.  He  who  does  not  follow,  does 
not  trust.  To  follow  Christ,  means  to  long  and  strive 
after  His  companionship,  as  the  Psalmist  says,  "  My  soul 
folio  we  th  hard  after  Thee."  It  means  the  submission  of 
the  will,  the  effort  of  the  whole  nature,  the  daily  conflict 
to  reproduce  His  example,  the  resolute  adoption  of  His 
command  as  my  law,  His  providence  as  my  will.  His 
fellowship  as  my  joy.  And  the  root  and  beginning  of  all 
such  following  is  in  coming  to  Him,  conscious  of  mine 
own  darkness,  and  trustful  in  His  great  light.  We  must 
rely  on  a  Guide  before  we  accept  His  directions  ;  and  it 
is  absurd  tO  pretend  that  we  trust  Him,  if  we  do  not  go 
as  He  bids  us.  So  "  follow  thou  Me  "  is,  in  a  very  rea' 
sense,  the  sum  of  all  Christian  duty. 

That  thought  opens  out  very  wide  fields,  into  whic) 
we  must  not  even  glance  now ;  but  I  cannot  help  pausing 
here  to  repeat  the  remark  already  made,  as  to  the  gigantic 
and  incomprehensible  self-confidence  that  speaks  here  : 
"  Followeth  Me"  Then  Jesus  Christ  calmly  proposes 
Himself  as  the  aim  and  goal  for  every  soul  of  man ,  sets 
up  His  own  doings  as  an  all-sufficient  rule  for  us  all,  with 


THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD.  99 

til  our  varieties  of  temper,  character,  culture,  and  work 
and  quietly  assumes  to  liave  a  right  of  precedence  before, 
and  of  absolute  command  over,  the  whole  world.  They 
are  all  to  keep  behind  Him,  He  thinks,  be  they  saints  or 
sages,  kings  or  beggars ;  and  the  liker  they  are  to  Him- 
self, He  thinks,  the  nearer  they  mil  be  to  perfectness  and 
life.  He  puts  Himself  at  the  head  of  the  mystic  march 
of  the  generations,  and,  like  the  mysterious  angel  that 
Joshua  saw  in  the  plain  by  Jericho,  makes  the  lofty 
claim :  "  Nay,  but  as  Captain  of  the  Lord's  host  am  1 
come  up."  Do  we  admit  His  claim  because  we  know 
His  name  ?  do  we  yield  Him  full  trust  because  we  have 
learned  that  He  is  the  Light  of  men,  because  He  is  the 
Word  of  God  ?  Do  we  follow  Him  with  loyal  obedience, 
longing  love,  and  lowly  imitation,  because  He  has  beai 
and  is  to  us  the  Saviour  of  our  souls  ? 

In  the  measure  in  which  we  do,  the  great  promises  of 
this  wonderful  saying  will  be  verified  and  understood 
by  us — "  He  that  foUoweth  Me  shall  not  walk  in  dark- 
ness." That  saying  has,  as  one  may  say,  a  lower  and  a 
higher  fulfilment.  In  the  lower,  it  refers  to  practical  life 
and  its  perplexities.  Nobody  who  has  not  tried  it  would 
believe  how  many  difficulties  are  cleared  out  of  a  man's 
road  by  the  simple  act  of  trying  to  follow  Christ.  No 
doubt  there  will  still  remain  obscurities  enough  as  to 
what  we  ought  to  do,  to  call  for  the  best  exercise  of 
patient  wisdom  -,  but  an  enormous  proportion  of  them 
vanish  Hke  mist  when  the  sun  looks  through,  when  once 
we  honestly  set  ourselves  to  find  out  where  the  pillared 
Light  is  guiding.  It  is  a  reluctant  will,  and  intrusive 
likings  and  dislikings,  that  obscure  the  way  for  us,  much 
oftener  than  real  obscurity  in  the  way  itself.  It  is  seldom 
impossible  to  discern  the  Divine  will,  when  we  only  wish 


too  THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

to  know  it  that  we  may  do  it.  And  if  ever  it  is  impossible 
for  us,  surely  that  impossibility  is  like  the  cloud  resting 
on  the  tabernacle — a  sign  that  for  the  present  His  will  is 
that  we  should  be  still,  and  wait,  and  watch. 

But  there  is  a  higher  meaning  in  the  words  than  even 
this  promise  of  practical  direction.  In  the  profound 
symbolism  of  Scripture,  especially  of  this  Gospel,  "  dark- 
ness "  is  the  name  for  the  whole-  condition  of  the  soul 
averted  from  God.  So  our  Lord  here  is  declaring  that  to 
follow  Him  is  the  true  deliverance  from  that  midnight  of 
the  soul.  There  is  a  darkness  of  ignorance,  a  darkness 
of  impurity,  a  darkness  of  sorrow, — and  in  that  threefold 
gloom,  thickening  to  a  darkness  of  death,  are  they  en- 
wrapt  who  follow  not  the  Light.  That  is  the  grim  tragical 
side  of  this  saying,  too  sad,  too  awful  for  our  lips  to  speak 
much  of,  and  best  left  in  the  solemn  impressiveness  of  that 
one  word.  But  the  hopeful,  blessed  side  of  it  is,  that 
the  feeblest  beginnings  of  trust  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  the 
first  tottering  steps  that  try  to  tread  in  His,  bring  us  into 
the  light.  It  does  not  need  that  we  have  reached  our 
goal,  it  is  enough  that  our  faces  are  turned  to  it,  and  our 
hearts  desire  to  attain  it,  then  we  may  be  sure  that  the 
dominion  of  the  darkness  over  us  is  broken.  To  follow, 
though  it  be  afar  off,  and  with  unequal  steps,  fills  our  path 
with  increasing  brightness,  and  even  though  evil  and 
ignorance  and  sorrow  may  thrust  their  blackness  in  upon 
our  day,  they  are  melting  in  the  growing  glory,  and 
already  we  may  give  thanks  "  unto  the  Father  who  hath 
made  us  meet  to  be  partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  the 
saints  in  light,  who  hath  delivered  us  from  the  power  of 
darkness,  and  hath  translated  us  into  the  kingdom  of  His 
dear  Son." 

But  we  have  not  merely  the  promise  that  we  shall  be 


THE  UGHT  OF  THE  WORLD.  lOl 

led  by  the  light  and  brought  into  the  light.  A  yet  deeper 
and  grander  gift  is  offered  here  :  "  He  shall  have  the  light 
of  life."  I  suppose  that  means  not,  as  it  is  often  care- 
lessly taken  to  mean,  a  light  which  illuminates  the  life, 
but,  like  the  similar  phrases  of  this  Gospel,  "  bread  of  life," 
"  water  of  life," — light  which  is  life.  "  In  Him  was  life, 
and  the  life  was  the  light  of  men."  These  two  are  one  in 
their  source,  which  is  Jesus,  the  Word  of  God.  Of  Him 
we  have  to  say,  "With  Thee  is  the  fountain  of  life,  in 
Thy  light  shall  we  see  light."  They  are  one  in  their 
deepest  nature,  the  life  is  the  light,  and  the  light  the  life. 
And  this  one  gift  is  bestowed  upon  every  soul  that  follows 
Christ.  Not  only  will  our  outward  lives  be  illumined  or 
guided  from  without,  but  our  inward  being  will  be  filled 
with  the  brightness.  "  Ye  were  sometimes  darkness,  now 
are  ye  light  in  the  Lord," 

That  pillar  of  fire  remained  apart  and  without.  But 
this  true  and  better  guide  of  our  souls  enters  in  and 
dwells  in  us,  in  all  the  fulness  of  His  triple  gift  of  life, 
and  light,  and  love.  Within  us  He  will  chiefly  prove 
Himself  the  guide  of  our  spirits,  and  will  not  merely  cast 
His  beams  on  the  path  of  our  feet,  but  will  fill  and  flood 
us  with  His  own  brightness.  All  light  of  knowledge,  of 
goodness,  of  gladness  will  be  ours,  if  Christ  be  ours  :  and 
ours  He  surely  will  be  if  we  follow  Him.  Let  us  take 
heed,  lest  turning  away  from  Him  we  follow  the  will-o'- 
the-wisps  of  our  own  fancies,  or  the  dancing  lights,  bom 
of  putrescence,  that  flicker  above  the  swamps,  for  they  will 
lead  us  into  doleful  lands  where  evil  things  haunt,  and 
into  outer  darkness.  Let  us  take  heed  how  we  use  that 
light  of  God ;  for  Christ,  like  His  symbol  of  old,  has  a 
double  aspect  according  to  the  eye  which  looks.  "It 
came  between  the  camp  of  the  Egyptians  and  the  camp 


IM  THE  LIGHT  OF  THE  WORLD. 

of  Israel,  and  it  was  a  cloud  and  darkness  to  them,  but  i' 
gave  light  by  night  to  these."  He  is  either  a  stone  of 
stumbling  or  a  sure  foundation,  a  savour  of  life  or  of 
death,  and  which  He  is  depends  on  ourselves.  Trusted, 
loved,  followed,  He  is  light.  Neglected,  turned  from, 
He  is  darkness.  Though  He  be  the  light  of  the  world, 
it  is  only  the  man  who  follows  Him  to  whom  He  can  give 
the  light  of  life.  Therefore,  man's  awful  prerogative  of 
perverting  the  best  into  the  worst  forced  Him,  who 
came  to  be  the  light  of  men,  to  that  sad  and  solemn 
utterance :  "  For  judgment  I  am  come  into  this  world, 
that  they  which  see  not  might  see,  and  that  they  which 
Me  might  be  made  blind." 


XII. 

FEAR  AND  FAITH. 


Psalm  Ivi.  3,  4. 

*•  What  time  I  am  afraid,  I  \rill  trust  in  Thee.  ...  In  God  I 
have  put  my  trust  ;  I  will  not  fear." 

T  T  is  not  given  to  many  men  to  add  new  words  to  the 
vocabulary  of  religious  emotion.  But  so  far  as  an 
examination  of  the  Old  Testament  avails,  I  find  that 
David  was  the  first  that  ever  employed  the  word  that  is 
here  translated,  /  will  trusty  with  a  reHgious  meaning. 
It  is  found  occasionally  in  earlier  books  of  the  Bible  in 
different  connections,  never  in  regard  to  man's  relations 
to  God,  until  the  Poet-Psalmist  laid  his  hand  upon  it, 
and  consecrated  it  for  all  generations  to  express  one  of 
the  deepest  relations  of  man  to  his  Father  in  heaven. 

And  it  is  a  favourite  word  of  his.  I  find  it  occurs  con- 
stantly in  his  psalms ;  twice  as  often,  or  nearly  so,  in  the 
psalms  attributed  to  David  as  in  all  the  rest  of  the 
Psalter  put  together;  and,  as  I  shall  have  occasion  to 
show  you  in  a  moment,  it  is  in  itself  a  most  significant 
and  poetic  word. 

But,  first  of  all,  I  ask  you  to  notice  how  beautifiiUy 
there  comes  out  here  the  occasion  of  trust.  "  What  time 
I  am  afraid,  I  will  put  my  trust  in  Thee." 


104  FEAR   AND   FAITH. 

This  psalm  is  one  of  those  belonging  to  the  Sauline 
persecution.  If  we  adopt  the  allocation  in  the  superscrip- 
tion, it  was  written  at  one  of  the  very  lowest  points  of  his 
fortunes.  And  there  seem  to  be  one  or  two  of  its  phrases 
which  acquire  new  force,  if  we  regard  the  psalm  as  drawn 
forth  by  the  perils  of  his  wandering,  hunted  life.  For 
instance — "  Thou  tellest  my  wanderings,"  is  no  mere  ex- 
pression of  the  feelings  with  which  he  regarded  the 
changes  of  this  earthly  pilgrimage,  but  is  the  confidence 
of  the  fugitive  that  in  the  doublings  and  windings  of  his 
flight  God's  eye  marked  him.  **  Put  thou  my  tears  into 
Thy  bottle  " — one  of  the  few  indispensable  articles  which 
he  had  to  carry  with  him,  the  water-skin  which  hung 
beside  him,  perhaps,  as  he  meditated.  So  read  in  the  light 
of  his  probable  circumstances,  how  pathetic  and  eloquent 
does  tliat  saying  become — "  What  time  I  am  afraid,  I 
will  trust  in  Thee."  That  goes  deep  down  into  the  reali- 
ties of  life.  It  is  when  we  are  "afraid  "  that  we  trust  in 
God;  not  in  easy  times,  when  things  are  going  smoothly 
with  us.  Not  when  the  sun  shines,  but  when  the  tempest 
blows  and  the  wind  howls  about  his  ears,  a  man  gathers 
his  cloak  round  him,  and  cleaves  fast  to  his  supporter. 
The  midnight  sea  lies  all  black ;  but  when  it  is  cut  into 
by  the  oar,  or  divided  and  churned  by  the  paddle,  it 
flashes  up  into  phosphorescence.  And  so  it  is  from  the 
tumults  and  agitation  of  man's  spirit  that  there  is  struck 
out  the  light  of  man's  faith.  There  is  the  bit  of  flint  and 
the  steel  that  comes  hammering  against  it  \  and  it  is  the 
contact  of  these  two  that  brings  out  the  spark.  The  man 
never  knew  confidence  who  does  not  know  how  the  occa- 
sion that  evoked  and  preceded  was  terror  and  need. 
"  What  time  I  am  afraid,  I  will  trust."  That  is  no  trust 
wnich  is  only  fair  weather  trust.    This  principle — first  fear, 


FEAR   AND   FAITH.  lof 

and  only  then,  faith — applies  all  round  the  circle  of  oar 
necessities,  weaknesses,  sorrows,  and  sins. 

There  must,  first  of  all,  be  the  deep  sense  of  need,  of 
exposedness  to  danger,  of  weakness,  of  sorrow,  and  only 
then  will  there  come  the  calmness  of  confidence.  A 
victorious  faith  will 

" rise  large  and  slow 

From  out  the  fluctuations  of  our  souls, 
As  from  the  dim  and  tumbling  sea 
Starts  the  completed  moon. " 

And  then,  if  so,  notice  how  there  is  involved  in  that  the 
other  consideration,  that  a  man's  confidence  is  not  the 
product  of  outward  circumstances,  but  of  his  own  fixed 
resolves.     "  I  will  put  my  trust  in  Thee." 

Nature  says,  Be  afraid,  and  the  recoil  from  that  natural 
fear,  which  comes  from  a  discernment  of  threatening  evil, 
is  only  possible  by  a  strong  effort  of  the  will.  FooHsh 
confidence  opposes  to  natural  fear  a  groundless  resolve 
not  to  be  afraid,  as  if  heedlessness  were  security,  or  facts 
could  be  altered  by  resolving  not  to  think  about  them. 
True  faith,  by  a  mighty  effort  of  the  will,  fixes  its  gaze  on 
our  Divine  helper,  and  there  finds  it  possible  and  wise  to 
lose  its  fears.  It  is  madness  to  say,  I  will  not  be  afraid ; 
it  is  wisdom  and  peace  to  say,  I  will  trust,  and  not  be 
afiaid.  But  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  fix  the  eye  on  God  when 
threatening  enemies  within  arm's  length  compel  our  gaze  j 
and  there  must  be  a  fixed  resolve,  not  indeed  to  coerce 
our  emotions  or  to  ignore  our  perils,  but  to  set  the  Lord 
before  us,  that  we  may  not  be  moved*  When  war  deso- 
lates a  land,  the  peasants  fly  from  their  undefended  huts 
to  the  shelter  of  the  castle  on  the  hill-top,  but  they  can- 
not  reach  the  safety  of  the  strong  walls  without  climbing 
the  steep  road.     So  when  calamity  darkens  round  ui,  of 


I06  FEAR  AND  FAITH. 

our  sense  of  sin  and  sorrow  shakes  our  hearts,  we  need 
effort  to  resolve  and  to  carry  into  practice  the  resolution, 
*'  I  flee  unto  Thee  to  hide  me."  Fear,  then,  is  the  occasion 
of  faith,  and  faith  is  fear  transformed  by  the  act  of  our 
own  will,  calling  to  mind  the  strength  of  God,  and  be- 
taking ourselves  thereto.  Therefore,  do  not  wonder  if  the 
two  things  lie  in  your  hearts  together,  and  do  not  say,  "  I 
have  no  faith  because  I  have  some  fear,"  but  rather  feel 
that  if  there  be  the  least  spark  of  the  former  it  will  turn  all 
the  rest  into  its  own  bright  substance.  Here  is  the  stifling 
smoke,  coming  up  from  some  newly-lighted  fire  of  green 
wood,  black  and  choking,  and  solid  in  its  coils  ;  but  as  the 
fire  burns  up,  all  the  smoke-wreaths  will  be  turned  into 
one  flaming  spire,  full  of  light  and  warmth.  Do  you  turn 
your  smoke  into  fire,  your  fear  into  faith.  Do  not  be 
down-hearted  if  it  takes  a  while  to  convert  the  whole  ot 
the  lower  and  baser  into  the  nobler  and  higher.  Faith 
and  fear  do  blend,  thank  God.  They  are  as  oil  and  water 
in  a  man's  soul,  and  the  oil  will  float  above,  and  quiet  the 
waves.  "  What  time  I  am  afraid  " — there  speaks  nature 
and  the  heart.  "  I  will  trust  in  Thee  " — there  speaks  the 
better  man  within,  lifting  himself  above  nature  and  cir- 
cumstances, and  casting  himself  into  the  extended  arms  of 
God,  who  catches  him  and  keeps  him  safe. 

Then,  still  further,  these  words,  or  rather  one  portion  of 
them,  give  us  a  bright  light  and  a  beautiful  thought  as  to  the 
essence  and  inmost  centre  of  this  faith  or  trust.  Scholars 
tell  us  that  the  word  here  translated  "  trust "  has  a  graphic, 
pictorial  meaning  for  its  root  idea.  It  si^ifies  literally  to 
cling  to  or  hold  fast  anything,  expressing  thus  both  the 
notion  of  a  good  tight  grip  and  of  intimate  union.  Now, 
is  not  that  metaphor  vivid  and  full  of  teaching  as  well  as 
of  impulse  ?    **  I  will  trust  in  Thee."    "  And  he  exhorted 


FEAR   AND   FAITH.  lo, 

them  all,  that  with  purpose  of  heait  they  should  cUa^t 
unto  the  Lord."  We  may  follow  out  the  metaphor  of  the 
word  in  many  illustrations.  For  instance,  here  is  a  strong 
prop,  and  here  is  the  trailing,  lithe  feebleness  of  the  vine. 
Gather  up  the  leaves  that  are  creeping  all  along  the 
ground,  and  coil  them  around  that  support,  and  up  they  go 
straight  towards  the  heavens.  Here  is  a  limpet  m  some 
pond  or  other,  left  by  the  tide,  and  it  has  relaxed  its 
grasp  a  little.  Touch  it  with  your  finger  and  it  grips  fast 
to  the  rock,  and  you  will  want  a  hammer  before  you  can 
dislodge  it.  There  is  a  traveller  groping  along  some  nar- 
row broken  path,  where  the  chamois  would  tread  cau- 
tiously, his  guide  in  front  of  him.  His  head  reels,  and  his 
limbs  tremble,  and  he  is  all  but  over,  but  he  grasps  the 
strong  hand  of  the  man  in  front  of  him,  or  lashes  himself 
to  him  by  the  rope,  and  he  can  walk  steadily.  Or,  take 
that  story  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  about  the  lame  man 
healed  by  Peter  and  John.  All  his  life  long  he  had  been 
lame,  and  when  at  last  healing  comes,  one  can  fancy  with 
what  a  tight  grasp  "  the  lame  man  held  Peter  and  John." 
The  timidity  and  helplessness  of  a  life-time  made  him 
hold  fast,  even  while,  walking  and  leaping,  he  tried  how 
the  imaccustomed  "  feet  and  ankle  bones  "  could  do  their 
work.  How  he  would  clutch  the  arms  of  his  two  sup- 
porters, and  feel  himself  firm  and  safe  only  as  long  as  he 
grasped  them  !  That  is  faith,  cleaving  to  Christ,  twining 
round  Him  with  all  the  tendrils  of  our  heart,  as  the  vine 
does  round  its  pole ;  holding  to  Him  by  His  hand,  as  a 
tottering  man  does  by  the  strong  hand  that  upholds. 

And  there  is  one  more  application  of  the  metaphor, 
which  perhaps  may  be  best  brought  out  by  referring  to  a 
passage  of  Scripture.  We  find  this  same  expression  used 
in  that  wonderfiilly  dramatic  scene  in  the  Book  of  Kings, 


108  FEAR   AND  FAITH. 

where  the  supercilious  messengers  from  the  king  of 
Assyria  came  up  and  taunted  the  king  and  his  people  on 
the  wall.  "  What  confidence  is  this  wherein  thou  trustest  ? 
Now,  on  whom  dost  thou  trust,  that  thou  rebellest  against 
me?  Now,  behold,  thou  trustest  upon  the  staff  of  this 
bruised  reed,  even  upon  Egypt,  on  which,  if  a  man  lean, 
it  will  go  into  his  hand  and  pierce  it :  so  is  Pharaoh, 
king  of  Egypt,  unto  all  that  trust  on  him." 

The  word  of  our  text  is  employed  there,  and,  as  the 
phrase  shows,  with  a  distinct  trace  of  its  primary  sense 
You  are  trusting  or  leaning  upon  this  poor  paper  reed  on 
the  Nile  banks,  that  has  got  no  substance,  or  strength,  oi 
pith  in  it.  A  man  leans  upon  it,  and  it  runs  into  the 
palm  of  his  hand,  and  makes  an  ugly  festering  wound 
Such  rotten  stays  are  all  our  earthly  confidences.  The 
act  of  trust,  and  the  miserable  issues  of  placing  it  on  man, 
are  excellently  described  there.  The  act  is  the  same  when 
directed  to  God,  but  how  different  the  issues.  Lean  all 
your  weight  on  God  as  on  some  strong  staff,  and  depend 
upon  it  that  support  will  never  yield  nor  crack ;  there 
will  no  splinters  run  into  your  palms  from  it. 

If  I  am  to  cling  with  my  hand  I  must  first  empty  my  hand. 
Fancy  a  man  saying,  I  cannot  stand  unless  you  hold  me  up ; 
but  I  have  to  hold  my  Bank  Book,  and  this  thing,  and  that 
thing,  and  the  other  thing ;  I  cannot  put  them  down,  so 
I  have  not  a  hand  free  to  lay  hold  with,  you  must  do 
the  holding.  That  is  what  some  of  us  are  saying  in 
effect.  Now  the  prayer,  "  Hold  Thou  me  up,  and  1 
shall  be  safe,"  is  a  right  one ;  but  not  from  a  man  who 
will  not  put  his  possessions  out  of  his  hands,  that  he  may 
lay  hold  of  the  God  who  lays  hold  of  him. 
**  Nothing  in  my  hands  I  bring." 

Then  of  course,  and  only  then,  when  we  are  empty 


FEAR   AND   FAITH.  109 

handed^  shall  we  be  free  to  grip  and  lay  hold ;  and  only 
then  shall  we  be  able  to  go  on  with  the  grand  words — 

"  Simply  to  Thy  cross  I  cling," 

some  half-drowned,  shipwrecked  sailor,  flung  up  on  the 
each,  clasps  a  point  of  rock,  and  is  safe  from  the  power 
f  the  waves  that  beat  around  him. 
And  then  one  word  more.  These  two  clauses  that  I 
have  put  together  give  us  not  only  the  occasion  of  faith 
in  fear,  and  the  essence  of  faith  in  this  clinging,  but 
they  also  give  us  very  beautifully  the  victory  of  faith. 
You  see  with  what  poetic  art — if  we  may  use  such  words 
about  the  breathings  of  such  a  soul — he  repeats  the  two 
main  words  of  the  former  verse  in  the  latter,  only  in  in- 
verted order — "  What  time  I  am  afraid,  I  will  trust  in 
Thee."  He  is  possessed  by  the  lower  emotion,  and 
resolves  to  escape  from  its  sway  into  the  light  and  liberty 
of  faith.  And  then  the  next  words  still  keep  up  the  con- 
trast of  faith  and  fear,  only  that  now  he  is  possessed  by 
the  more  blessed  mood,  and  determines  that  he  will  not 
fall  back  into  the  bondage  and  darkness  of  the  baser. 
"In  God  I  have  put  my  trust;  I  will  not  fear."  He 
has  confidence,  and  in  the  strength  of  that  he  resolves 
that  he  will  not  yield  to  fear.  If  we  put  that  thought  into 
a  more  abstract  form  it  comes  to  this  :  that  the  one  true 
antagonist  and  triumpnant  rival  of  all  fear  is  faith,  and 
faith  alone.  There  is  no  reason  why  any  man  should  be 
emancipated  from  his  fears  either  about  this  world  or 
about  the  next,  except  in  proportion  as  he  has  faith.  Nay, 
father  it  is  far  away  more  rational  to  be  afraid  than  not  to 
be  afraid,  unless  I  have  this  faith  in  Christ.  There  are 
lilenty  of  reasons  for  dread  in  the  dark  possibilitiee  and 
.lot  less  dark  certainties  of  life.     Disasters,  losses,  part- 


no  FEAR  AND   FAITH. 

ings,  disappointments,  sicknesses,  death,  may  any  of  them 
come  at  any  moment,  and  some  of  them  ^vill  certainly 
come  sooner  or  later.  Temptations  lurk  around  us  like 
serpents  in  the  grass,  they  beset  us  in  open  ferocity  like 
ions  in  our  path.  Is  it  not  wise  to  fear  unless  our  faith 
nas  hold  of  that  great  promise,  "  Thou  shalt  tread  upon 
the  lion  and  adder ;  there  shall  no  evil  befall  thee"?  But 
if  we  have  a  firm  hold  of  God,  then  it  is  wise  not  to  be 
afraid,  and  terror  is  folly  and  sin.  For  trust  brings  not 
only  tranquillity,  but  security,  and  so  takes  away  fear  by 
taking  away  danger. 

That  double  operation  of  faith  in  quieting  and  in 
defendmg  is  very  strikingly ;  set  forth  by  an  Old  Testa- 
ment word,  formed  from  the  verb  here  employed,  which 
means  properly  confidence^  and  then  in  one  form  comes 
to  signify  both  in  security  and  in  safety^  secure  as  be- 
ing free  from  anxiety,  safe  as  being  sheltered  from  peril. 
So,  for  instance,  the  people  of  that  secluded  little  town 
of  Laish,  whose  peaceful  existence  amidst  warlike  neigh- 
bours is  described  with  such  singular  beauty  in  the 
Book  of  Judges,  are  said  to  "  dwell  careless^  quiet,  and 
secure''  The  former  phrase  is  literally  " in  trust,"  and  the 
latter  is  "  trusting."  The  idea  sought  to  be  conveyed  by 
both  seems  to  be  that  double  one  of  quiet  freedom  from 
fear  and  from  danger.  So,  again,  in  Moses'  blessing, 
"The  beloved  of  the  Lord  shall  dwell  in  safety  by 
Him,"  we  have  the  same  phrase  to  express  the  same 
twofold  benediction  of  shelter,  by  dwelling  in  God,  from 
all  alarm  and  from  all  attack : 

**  As  far  from  danger  as  from  fear, 
While  love,  almighty  love,  is  near." 

This  thought  of  the  victory  of  faith  over  fear  is  very 
forcibly  set  forth  in  a  verse  from  the  Book  of  Proverbs, 
which  in  our  version  runs    "  The  righteous  is  boM  as  » 


FEAR   AND   FAITH.  Ill 

lion."  The  word  rendered  "  is  bold  "  is  that  of  our  text, 
and  would  literally  be  "  trusts,"  but  obviously  the  meta- 
phor requires  such  a  translation  as  that  of  the  English 
Bible.  The  word  that  properly  describes  the  act  of  faith 
has  come  to  mean  the  courage  which  is  the  consequence 
of  the  act,  just  as  our  own  word  confidence  properly  signi- 
fies trust,  but  has  come  to  mean  the  boldness  which  is 
bom  of  trust.  So,  then,  the  true  way  to  become  brave  is 
to  lean  on  God.  That,  and  that  alone,  delivers  from  other- 
wise reasonable  fear,  and  Faith  bears  in  her  one  hand  the 
gift  of  outward  safety,  and  in  her  other  that  of  inward  peace.  ^ 
Peter  is  sinking  in  the  water  j  the  tempest  runs  high.  He 
looks  upon  the  waves,  and  is  ready  to  fancy  that  he  is 
going  to  be  swallowed  up  immediately.  His  fear  is 
reasonable  if  he  has  only  the  tempest  and  himself  to 
draw  his  conclusions  from.  His  helplessness  and  the 
scowling  storm  together  strike  out  a  Uttle  spark  of  faith, 
which  the  wind  cannot  blow  out,  nor  the  floods  quench. 
Like  our  Psalmist  here,  when  Peter  is  afraid,  he  trusts. 
"  Save,  Lord,  or  I  perish."  Immediately  the  outstretched 
hand  of  his  Lord  grasps  his,  and  brings  him  safety, 
while  the  gentle  rebuke,  "  O  thou  of  little  faith,  wherefore 
didst  thou  doubt  ?  "  infuses  courage  into  his  beating  heart. 
The  storm  runs  as  high  as  ever,  and  the  waves  beat  about 
his  limbs,  and  the  spray  blinds  his  eyes.  If  he  leaves  his 
hold  for  one  moment  down  he  will  go.  But,  as  long  as  he 
clasps  Christ's  hand,  he  is  as  safe  on  that  heaving  floor  as 
if  his  feet  were  on  a  rock ;  and  as  long  as  he  looks  in 
Christ's  face  and  leans  upon  His  upholding  arm,  he  does 
not  "  see  the  waves  boisterous,"  nor  tremble  at  all  as  they 
break  around  him.  His  fear  and  his  danger  are  both 
gone,  because  he  holds  Christ  and  is  upheld  by  Him.  In 
this  sense,  too,  as  in  many  others,"  this  is  the  victory  that 
overcometh  the  world,  even  our  faith."  , 


XIII. 

WAITING  AND   SINGING. 


Psalm  lix,  9,  17. 

p/"!iis  strength  will  I  wait  upon  Thee ;  for  God  is  my  defence 
- .  .  .    Unto  Thee,  O  my  strength,  will  I  sing ;  for  God  is  my 
defence,  and  the  God  of  my  mercy. 

nPHERE  is  an  obvious  correspondence  between  these 
^  two  verses,  even  as  they  stand  in  our  translation,  and 
still  more  obviously  in  the  Hebrew.  You  observe  that 
in  the  former  verse  the  words  "because  of"  are  a  sup- 
plement inserted  by  our  translators,  because  they  did  not 
exactly  know  what  to  make  of  the  bare  words  as  they 
stood.  "  His  strength,  I  will  wait  upon  thee,"  is,  of 
course,  nonsense ;  but  a  very  slight  alteration  of  a  single 
letter,  which  has  the  sanction  of  several  good  authorities, 
both  among  manuscripts  and  translations,  gives  an  appro 
priate  and  beautiful  meaning,  and  brings  the  two  verses 
into  complete  verbal  correspondence.  Suppose  we  read, 
''  My  strength,"  instead  of  "  His  strength."  The  ch;inge 
is  only  making  the  Hmb  of  one  letter  a  little  shorter,  and, 
as  you  will  perceive,  we  thereby  get  the  same  expressions 
in  both  verses.  We  may  then  read  our  two  texts  thus  : 
*'Upon  Thee,  O  my  Strength,  I  will  wait  .  .  .  Unto 
Thee,  O  my  Strength,  I  will  sing." 


WAITING    AND    SINGING.  Ill 

They  are,  word  for  word,  parallel,  with  the  signifi- 
cant difference  that  the  waiting  in  the  one  passes  into 
song,  in  the  other  the  silent  expectation  breaks  into 
music  of  praise.  And  these  two  words — wait  and  sing — 
are  in  the  Hebrew  the  same  in  every  letter  but  one,  thus 
strengthening  the  impression  of  likeness  as  well  as  em- 
phasizing, with  poetic  art,  that  of  diflference.  The  parallel, 
too,  obviously  extends  to  the  second  half  of  each  verse, 
where  the  reason  for  both  the  waiting  and  the  praise  is 
the  same — "  For  God  is  my  defence  " — with  the  further 
eloquent  variation  that  the  song  is  built  not  only  on  the 
thought  that  **  God  is  my  defence,"  but  also  on  this,  that 
He  is  "  the  God  of  my  mercy." 

These  two  parallel  verses,  then,  are  a  kind  of  refrain, 
coming  in  at  the  close  of  each  division  of  the  psalm;  and  if 
you  examine  its  structure  and  general  course  of  thought,  you 
will  see  that  the  first  stands  at  the  end  of  a  picture  of  the 
Psalmist's  trouble  and  danger,  and  makes  the  transition  to 
the  second  part,  which  is  mainly  a  prayer  for  deliverance, 
and  finishes  with  the  refrain  altered  and  enlarged,  as  I 
have  pointed  out. 

The  heading  of  the  psalm  tells  us  that  its  date  is  the 
very  beginning  of  Saul's  persecution,  when  "  they  watched 
the  house  to  kill  him,"  and  he  fled  by  night  from  the 
city.  There  is  a  certain  correspondence  between  the 
circumstances  and  some  part  of  the  picture  of  his  foes 
here  which  makes  the  date  probable.  If  so,  this  is  one 
of  David's  oldest  psalms,  and  is  interesting  as  show- 
ing his  faith  and  courage,  even  in  the  first  burst  of  danger. 
But  whether  that  be  so  or  not,  we  have  here,  at  any  rate, 
the  voice  of  a  devout  soul  in  sore  sorrow,  and  may  well 
learn  the  lesson  of  its  twofold  utterance. 

The  man,  overwhelmed  by  calamity,  betakes  hionieU 


114  WAITING  AND  SINGING. 

to  God.  "  Upon  Thee,  O  my  strength,  will  I  wait,  for 
God  is  my  defence."  Then,  by  dint  of  waitings  although 
the  outward  circumstances  keep  just  the  same,  his  temper 
and  feelings  change.  He  began  with,  "  Deliver  me  from 
my  enemies,  O  Lord,  for  they  lie  in  wait  for  my  soul." 
He  passes  through  "  My  strength,  I  will  wait  upon  Thee," 
and  so  ends  with  "  My  strength,  I  will  sing  unto 
Thee."  We  may  then  throw  our  remarks  into  two 
groups,  and  deal  for  a  few  minutes  udth  these  two  points 
— the  Waiting  on  God,  and  the  change  of  Waiting  into 
Praise. 

Now,  with  regard  to  the  first  of  these — the  Waiting  on 
God — I  must  notice  that  the  expression  here,  "  I  will 
waitj^  is  a  somewhat  remarkable  one.  It  means,  accurately, 
"  I  will  watch  Thee,"  and  it  is  the  word  that  is  generally 
employed,  not  about  our  looking  up  to  Him,  but  about 
His  looking  down  to  us.  It  would  describe  the  action  of  a 
shepherd  guarding  his  flock  ;  of  a  sentry  keeping  a  city ; 
of  the  watchers  that  watch  for  the  morning,  and  the  like. 
By  using  it,  the  Psalmist  seems  as  if  he  would  say — There 
are  two  kinds  of  watching.  There  is  God's  watching  over 
me,  and  there  is  my  watching  for  God.  I  look  up  to 
Him  that  He  may  bless ;  He  looks  down  upon  me  that 
He  may  take  care  of  me.  As  He  guards  me,  so  I  stand 
expectant  before  Him,  as  one  in  a  besieged  town,  upon 
the  ramparts  there,  looks  eagerly  out  across  the  plain 
to  see  the  coming  of  the  long-expected  succours.  God 
"  waits  to  be  gracious  " — wonderful  words,  painting  for 
us  His  watchfulness  of  fitting  times  and  ways  to  bless  us, 
and  His  patient  attendance  on  our  unwilling,  careless 
spirits.  We  may  well  take  a  lesson  firom  His  attitude  in 
bestowing,  and,  on  our  parts,  wait  on  Him  to  be  helped. 
For  these  two  things — vigilance  and  patience — ^are  the 


WAITING  AND  SINGING.  115 

main  elements  in  the  Scriptural  idea  of  waiting  on  God. 
I^t  me  enforce  each  of  them  in  a  word  or  two. 

There  is  no  waiting  on  God  for  help,  and  there  is  no 
help  from  God,  without  watchful  expectation  on  our  parts. 
If  ever  we  fail  to  receive  strength  and  defence  from  Him, 
it  is  because  we  are  not  on  the  outlook  for  it.  Many  a 
proffered  succour  from  heaven  goes  past  us,  because  we 
are  not  standing  on  our  watch-tower  to  catch  the  far-oflf 
indications  of  its  approach,  and  to  fling  open  the  gates  of 
our  heart  for  its  entrance.  He  who  expects  no  help  will 
get  none  ;  he  whose  expectation  does  not  lead  him  to  be 
on  the  alert  for  its  coming  will  get  but  little.  How  the 
beleaguered  garrison,  that  knows  a  relieving  force  is  on 
the  march,  strain  their  eyes  to  catch  the  first  glint  of  the 
sunshine  on  their  spears  as  they  top  the  pass  !  But  how 
unlike  such  tension  of  watchfulness  is  the  languid  anticipa- 
tion and  fitful  look,  with  more  of  distrust  than  hope  in  it, 
which  we  turn  to  heaven  in  our  need.  No  wonder  we 
have  so  little  living  experience  that  God  is  our  "  strength  " 
and  our  "  defence,"  when  we  so  partially  believe  that  He  is, 
and  so  little  expect  that  He  will  be  either.  The  homely  old 
proverb  says,  "  They  that  watch  for  Providences  will  never 
want  a  providence  to  watch  for,"  and  you  may  turn  it  the 
other  way  and  say,  "  They  that  do  not  watch  for  Providence 
will  never  have  a  providence  to  watch  for."  Unless  you  put 
out  your  water-jars  when  it  rains  you  will  catch  no  water ; 
if  you  do  not  watch  for  God  coming  to  help  you,  God's 
watching  to  be  gracious  will  be  of  no  good  at  all  to  you. 
His  waiting  is  not  a  substitute  for  ours,  but  because  He 
watches  therefore  we  should  watch.  We  say,  we  expect 
Him  to  comfort  and  help  us — well,  are  we  standing,  as  it 
were,  on  tiptoe,  with  empty  hands  upraised  to  bring  them 
ft  little  nearer  the  gifts  we  look  for  ?    Are  our  '^  eyes  ever 


tl6  WATTING  AND  SINGING. 

towards  the  Lord  ?  "  Do  we  pore  over  His  gifts,  scruti 
nizing  them  as  eagerly  as  a  gold-seeker  does  the  quartz  in 
his  pan,  to  detect  every  shining  speck  of  the  precious 
metal  ?  Do  we  go  to  our  work  and  our  daily  battle  with 
the  confident  expectation  that  He  will  surely  come  when 
our  need  is  the  sorest  and  scatter  our  enemies  ?  Is  there 
any  clear  outlook  kept  by  us  for  the  help  which  we  know 
must  come,  lest  it  should  pass  us  unobserved,  and,  like 
the  dove  from  the  ark,  finding  no  footing  in  our  hearts 
drowned  in  a  flood  of  troubles,  be  fain  to  return  to  the 
calm  refuge  from  which  it  came  on  its  vain  errand  ?  Alas, 
how  many  gentle  messengers  of  God  flutter  homeless 
about  our  hearts,  unrecognized  and  unwelcomed,  because 
we  have  not  been  watching  for  them !  Of  what  avail  is  it 
that  a  strong  hand  from  the  cliff"  should  fling  the  safety- 
line  with  true  aim  to  the  wreck,  if  no  eye  on  the  deck  is 
watching  for  it  ?  It  hangs  there,  useless  and  unseen,  and 
then  it  drops  into  the  sea,  and  every  soul  on  bourd  is 
drowned.  It  is  our  own  fault — and  very  largely  t'ie  fault 
of  our  want  of  watchfulness  for  the  coming  of  God's  help — 
if  we  are  ever  overwhelmed  by  the  tasks,  or  diflficulties, 
or  sorrows  of  life.  We  wonder  that  we  are  left  to  6ght  out 
the  battle  ourselves.  But  are  we  ?  Is  it  not  rather,  that 
while  God's  succours  are  hastening-to  our  side  we  will  not 
open  our  eyes  to  see,  nor  our  hearts  to  receive  them  ?  If 
we  go  through  the  world  with  our  hands  hanging  listlessly 
down  instead  of  lifted  to  heaven,  or  full  of  the  trifles  and 
toys  of  this  present,  as  so  many  of  us  do,  what  wonder  is 
it  if  heavenly  gifts  of  strength  do  not  come  into  our  grasp? 
That  attitude  of  watchful  expectation  is  wonderfully  de- 
scribed for  us  in  the  graphic  words  of  another  p&alm, 
"  My  soul  waiteth  for  the  Lord  more  than  the^  that  w^tch 
for  the  morning :  I  sav,  more  than  they  that  ^ntch  fo>  the 


WAITING  AND  SINGING.  117 

morning,"  What  a  picture  that  is  !  Think  of  the  wakeful, 
sick  man,  tossing  restless  all  the  night  on  his  tumbled 
bed,  wracked  with  pain  made  harder  to  bear  by  the 
darkness.  How  often  his  heavy  eye  is  lifted  to  the  win- 
dow-pane, to  see  if  the  dawn  has  not  yet  begun  to  tint  it 
with  a  gray  glimmer  !  How  he  groans,  "  Would  God  it 
were  morning  ! "  Or,  think  of  some  unarmed  and  solitary 
man,  benighted  in  the  forest,  and  hearing  the  wild  beasts 
growl,  and  scream,  and  bark  all  round,  while  his  fire  dies 
down,  and  he  knows  that  his  life  depends  on  the  morning 
breaking  soon.  With  yet  more  eager  expectation  are  we 
to  look  for  God,  whose  coming  is  a  better  morning  for  our 
sick  and  defenceless  spirits.  If  we  are  not  so  looking  for 
His  help,  we  need  never  be  surprised  that  we  do  not  get 
it.  There  is  no  promise  and  no  probability  that  it  will 
come  to  men  in  their  sleep,  who  neither  desire  it  nor  wait 
for  it.  And  such  vigilant  expectation  will  be  accom- 
panied with  patience.  There  is  no  impatience  in  it,  but 
the  very  opposite.  **  If  we  hope  for  that  we  see  not,  then 
do  we  with  patience  wait  for  it."  If  we  know  that  He 
will  surely  come,  then  if  He  tarry  we  can  wait  for  Him, 
The  measure  of  our  confidence  is  ever  the  measure  of  our 
patience.  Being  sure  that  He  is  always  "in  the  midst 
of"  Zion,  we  may  be  sure  that  at  the  right  time  He  will 
flame  out  into  delivering  might,  "  helping  her,  and  that 
right  early."  So  Waiting  means  Watchfulness  and  Pa- 
tience, both  of  which  have  their  roots  in  Trust. 

Further,  we  have  here  set  forth  not  only  the  nature, 
but  also  the  object  of  this  waiting.  **  Upon  Thee,  O  my 
ttrengfhj  will  I  wait,  for  God  is  my  defence.'" 

The  object  to  which  it  is  directed,  and  the  ground  on 
which  it  is  based,  are  both  set  forth  in  these  two  names 
here  applied  to  God.     The  name  of  the  Lord  is  strength, 


ii8  WAITING  AND  SINGING. 

therefore  I  wait  on  Him  in  the  confident  expectation  ol 
receiving  of  His  power.  The  Lord  is  "  my  defence," 
therefore  I  wait  on  Him  in  the  confident  expectation  of 
safety.  The  one  name  has  respect  to  our  condition  of 
feebleness  and  inadequacy  for  our  tasks,  and  points  to 
God  as  infusing  strength  into  us.  The  other  points  to 
our  exposedness  to  danger  and  to  enemies,  and  points 
to  God  as  casting  His  shelter  around  us.  The  word 
translated  defence  is  literally  "  a  high  fortress,"  and  is  the 
same  as  closes  the  rapturous  accumulation  of  the  names 
of  his  delivering  God,  which  the  Psalmist  gives  us  when 
he  vows  to  love  Jehovah,  who  has  been  his  Rock,  and 
Fortress,  and  Deliverer  ;  his  God  in  whom  he  will  trust, 
his  Buckler,  and  the  Horn  of  his  salvation,  and  his  High 
Tower.  The  first  name  speaks  of  God  dwelling  in  us,  and 
His  strength  made  perfect  in  our  weakness ;  the  second 
speaks  of  our  dwelling  in  God,  and  our  defencelessness 
sheltered  in  Him.  "  The  name  of  the  Lord  is  a  strong 
tower ;  the  righteous  runneth  into  it,  and  is  safe."  As 
some  outnumbered  army,  unable  to  make  head  against  its 
enemies  in  the  open,  flees  to  the  shelter  of  some  hill 
fortress,  perched  upon  a  crag,  and,  taking  up  the  draw- 
bridge, cannot  be  reached  by  anything  that  has  not 
wings  ;  so  this  man,  hard  pressed  by  his  foes,  flees  into 
God  to  hide  him,  and  feels  secure  behind  these  strong  walls. 
That  is  the  God  on  whom  we  wait.  The  recognition 
of  His  character  as  thus  mighty  and  ready  to  help  is  the 
only  thing  that  will  evoke  our  expectant  confidence,  and 
His  character  thus  discerned  is  the  only  object  that  our 
confidence  can  grasp  aright.  Trust  Him  as  what  He  is, 
and  trust  Him  because  of  what  He  is,  and  see  to  it  that 
your  faith  lays  hold  on  the  living  God  Himself,  and  on 
nothing  beside. 


WAITING  AND  SINGING.  ita 

But  waiting  on  God  is  not  only  the  recognition  of 
His  character  as  revealed,  but  it  involves,  too,  the  act 
of  laying  hold  on  all  the  power  and  blessing  of  that 
character  for  myself.  ^^  My  strength,  my  defence,"  says 
the  Psalmist.  So  think  of  what  He  is,  and  believe  that 
He  is  that  for  you^  else  there  is  no  true  waiting  on 
Him.  Make  God  thy  very  own  by  claiming  thine  own 
portion  in  His  might,  by  betaking  thyself  to  that  strong 
habitation.  We  cannot  wait  on  God  in  crowds,  but,  one 
by  one,  must  say,  "  My  strength  and  my  defence." 

And  now  turn  to  the  second  verse  of  our  two  texts  : 
"  Unto  thee,  O  my  strength,  \vill  I  sing,  for  God  is  my 
defence  and  the  God  of  my  mercy." 

Here  we  catch,  as  it  were,  waiting  expectation  and 
watchfulness  in  the  very  act  of  passing  over  into  possession 
and  praise.  For  remember  the  aspect  of  things  has  not 
changed  a  bit  between  the  first  verse  of  our  text  and  the 
last.  The  enemies  are  all  round  about  David  just  as 
they  were,  "  making  a  noise  like  a  dog,"  as  he  says,  and 
"going  round  about  the  city."  The  evil  that  was 
threatening  him  and  making  him  sad  remains  entirely 
unlightened.  What  has  altered  ?  He  has  altered.  And 
how  has  he  altered  ?  Because  his  waiting  on  God  has 
begun  to  work  an  inward  change,  and  he  has  climbed  up, 
as  it  were,  out  of  the  depths  of  his  sorrow  up  into  the 
sunlight.  And  so  it  ever  is,  my  friends  !  There  is  de- 
liverance in  spirit  before  there  is  deliverance  in  outward 
fiict  If  our  patient  waiting  bring,  as  it  certainly  will 
bring,  at  the  right  time,  an  answer  in  the  removal  of 
danger,  and  the  lightening  of  sorrow,  it  will  bring  first  the 
better  answer  :  "  The  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all 
understanding,"  to  keep  your  hearts  and  minds.  That  is 
the  highest  blessing  we  have  to  seek  for  in  our  waiting  oo 


lao  WAITING  AND  SINGING. 

God,  and  that  is  the  blessing  we  get  as  soon  as  we  wait 
on  Him.  The  outward  deliverance  may  tarry,  but  ever 
there  come  before  it,  as  a  herald  of  its  approach,  the 
sense  of  a  lightened  burden  and  the  calmness  of  a 
strengthened  heart.  It  may  be  long  before  the  morning 
breaks,  but  even  while  the  darkness  lasts  a  faint  air 
begins  to  stir  among  the  sleeping  leaves,  the  promise  of 
the  dawn,  and  the  first  notes  of  half-awakened  birds  pre- 
lude the  full  chorus  that  will  hail  the  sunrise. 

It  is  beautiful,  I  think,  to  see,  how  in  the  compass  of 
this  one  little  psalm  the  singer  has,  as  it  were,  wrought 
himself  clear,  and  sung  himself  out  of  his  fears.  The 
stream  of  his  thought,  like  some  mountain  torrent,  tur- 
bid at  first,  has  run  itself  bright  and  sparkling.  How  all 
the  tremor  and  agitation  has  gone  away,  just  because 
he  has  kept  his  mind  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  presence  of 
the  calm  thought  of  God  and  His  love.  The  first  courses 
of  his  psalm,  like  those  of  some  great  building,  are  laid 
deep  down  in  the  darkness,  but  the  shining  summit  is 
away  up  there  m  the  sunlight,  and  God's  glittering  glory 
is  sparklingly  reflected  from  the  highest  point.  Whoever 
begins  with,  "  Deliver  me — I  will  wait  upon  thee,"  will 
pass  very  quickly,  even  before  the  outward  deliverance 
comes,  into — "  O  my  strength,  unto  Thee  will  I  sing  ! " 
Every  song  of  true  trust,  though  it  may  begin  with  a 
minor,  will  end  in  a  burst  of  jubilant  gladness.  No 
prayer  ought  ever  to  deal  with  complaints,  we  know, 
without  starting  with  thanksgiving,  and,  blessed  be  God, 
no  prayer  need  to  deal  with  complaints  wiJiout  ending 
with  thanksgiving.  So,  all  our  cries  of  sorrow,  and  all 
our  acknowledgments  of  weakness  and  need,  and  all  our 
plaintive  beseechings,  should  be  inlaid,  as  it  were,  between 
two  layers  of  brighter  and  gladder  thought,  like  dull  rock 


WAITING  AND  SINGING.  Ml 

between  two  veins  of  gold.  The  prayer  that  begins  with 
thankfuhiess,  and  passes  on  into  waiting,  even  while  in 
sorrow  and  sore  need,  will  always  end  in  thankfulness, 
and  triumph,  and  praise. 

If  we  regard  this  second  verse  of  our  text  as  the  ex- 
pression of  the  psalmist's  emotion  at  the  moment  of  its 
utterance,  then  we  see  in  it  a  beautiful  illustration  of  the 
effect  of  faithful  waiting  to  turn  complaining  into  praise. 
If  we  regard  it  rather  as  an  expression  of  his  confidence, 
that  "  I  shall  yet  praise  Him  for  the  help  of  His  counte- 
nance," we  see  in  it  an  illustration  of  the  power  of  patient 
waiting  to  brighten  the  sure  hope  of  deliverance,  and  to 
bring  summer  into  the  heart  of  winter.  As  resolve,  or  as 
prophecy,  it  is  equally  a  witness  of  the  large  reward 
of  quiet  waiting  for  the  salvation  of  the  Lord. 

In  either  application  of  the  words  their  almost  precise 
correspondence  with  those  of  the  previous  verse  is  far 
more  than  a  mere  poetic  ornament,  or  part  of  the  artistic 
form  of  the  psalm.  It  teaches  us  this  happy  lesson — that 
the  song  of  accomplished  deliverance,  whether  on  earth,  or 
in  the  final  joy  of  heaven,  will  be  but  a  sweeter,  fuller 
repetition  of  the  cry  that  went  up  in  trouble  from  our 
waiting  hearts.  The  object  to  which  we  shall  turn  with 
our  thankfuhiess  is  He  to  whom  we  betook  ourselves 
with  our  prayers.  There  will  be  the  same  turning  of  the 
soul  to  Him ;  only  instead  of  wistful  waiting  in  the  longing 
look,  joy  will  light  her  lamps  in  our  eyes,  and  thanklul- 
ness  beam  in  our  faces  as  we  turn  to  His  light.  We  shall 
look  to  Him  as  of  old,  and  name  Him  what  we  used  to 
name  Him  when  we  were  in  weakness  and  warfare, — our 
** strength"  and  "our  defence."  But  how  diflferent  the 
feelings  with  which  the  delivered  soul  calls  Him  so,  firom 
those  with  which  the  sorrowful  heart  tried  to  grasp  the 


lis  WAITING  AND  SINGING. 

comfort  of  the  names.  Then  their  reality  was  a  matter  of 
faith,  often  hard  to  hold  fast.  Now  it  is  a  matter  of 
memory  and  experience.  "  I  called  Thee  my  strength 
when  I  was  full  of  weakness ;  I  tried  to  believe  Thou  wast 
my  defence  when  I  was  full  of  fear ;  I  thought  of  Thee 
as  my  fortress  when  I  was  ringed  about  with  foes;  I 
know  Thee  now  for  that  which  I  then  trusted  that  Thou 
wast  As  I  waited  upon  Thee  that  Thou  mightest  be 
gracious,  I  praise  Thee  now  that  Thou  hast  been  more 
gracious  than  my  hopes."  Blessed  are  they  whose 
loftiest  expectations  were  less  than  their  grateful  memories 
and  their  rich  experience,  and  who  can  take  up  in  their 
song  of  praise  the  names  by  which  they  called  on  God, 
and  feel  that  they  knew  not  half  their  depth,  their  sweet- 
ness, or  their  power. 

But  the  praise  is  not  merely  the  waiting  transformed. 
Experience  has  not  only  deepened  the  conception  of  the 
meaning  of  God's  name ;  it  has  added  a  new  name.  The 
cry  of  the  suppliant  was  to  God,  his  strength  and  de- 
fence ;  the  song  of  the  saved  is  to  the  God  who  is  also 
the  God  of  his  mercy.  The  experiences  of  life  have 
brought  out  more  folly  the  love  and  tender  pity  of  God. 
While  the  troubles  lasted  it  was  hard  to  believe  that 
God  was  strong  enough  to  brace  us  against  them,  and  to 
keep  us  safe  in  them ;  it  was  harder  still  to  think  of  them 
as  coming  from  Him  at  all;  it  was  hardest  to  feel  that 
they  came  from  His  love.  But  when  they  are  past,  and 
their  meaning  is  plainer,  and  we  possess  their  results  in 
the  weight  of  glory  which  they  have  wrought  out  for  us, 
we  shall  be  able  to  look  back  on  them  all  as  the  mercies 
of  the  God  of  our  mercy,  even  as  when  a  man  looks  down 
from  the  mountain-top  upon  the  mists  and  the  clouds 
through  which  he  passed,  and  sees  them  all  smitten  bj 


WAITING  AND  SINGING.  laS 

the  sunshine  that  gleams  upon  them  from  above.  That 
which  was  thick  and  damp  as  he  was  struggling  through 
it,  is  irradiated  into  rosy  beauty ;  the  retrospective  and 
downward  glance  confirms  and  surpasses  all  that  faith 
dimly  discerned,  and  found  it  hard  to  believe.  Whilst  we 
are  fighting  here,  brethren,  let  us  say,  "  I  will  wait  for 
Thee,"  and  then  yonder  we  shall,  with  deeper  knowledge 
of  the  love  that  was  in  all  our  sorrows,  sing  unto  Him 
who  was  our  strength  in  earth's  weakness,  our  defence  in 
earth's  dangers,  and  is  for  evermore  the  "God  of  our 
mercy,"  amidst  the  large  and  undeserved  favours  of 
heaven. 


XIV. 

QUARTUS  A   BROTHER 

Romans  xvi.  23. 
And  Quartiis  a  brother. 

T  AM  afraid  very  few  of  us  read  often,  or  with  much  interest 
"*"  those  long  lists  of  names  at  the  end  of  Paul's  letters 
And  yet  there  are  plenty  of  lessons  in  them,  if  anybody 
will  look  at  them  lovingly  and  carefully.  There  does  not 
seem  much  in  these  three  words ;  but  I  am  very  much 
mistaken  if  they  will  not  prove  to  be  full  of  beauty  and 
pathos,  and  to  open  out  into  a  wonderful  revelation  of 
what  Christianity  is  and  does,  as  soon  as  we  try  to  freshen 
them  up  into  some  kind  of  human  interest. 

It  is  easy  for  us  to  make  a  little  picture  of  this  brother 
Quartus.  He  is  evidently  an  entire  stranger  to  the 
Church  in  Rome.  They  had  never  heard  his  name 
before  :  none  of  them  knew  anything  about  him.  Further, 
he  is  evidently  a  man  of  no  especial  reputation  or  position 
in  the  Church  at  Corinth,  from  which  Paul  \vrites.  He 
contrasts  strikingly  with  the  others  who  send  saluta- 
tions to  Rome.  "  Timotheus,  my  work-fellow  " — the 
companion  and  helper  of  the  Apostle,  whose  name  was 
known  everywhere  among  the  Churches,  heads  the  list. 
Then  come  other  prominent  men  of  his  more  immediate 
circle.    Then  follows  a  loving  greetm..  from  Paul's  amanu- 


QUARTUS    A    BROTHER.  IS$ 

ensis,  who,  naturally,  as  the  pen  is  in  his  own  hand,  says : 
"  /  Tertius,  wlio  wrote  this  Epistle,  salute  you  in  the 
lx)rd."  Then  Paul  begins  again  to  dictate,  and  the  list 
runs  on.  Next  comes  a  message  from  "  Gains  mine  host, 
and  of  the  whole  Church  " — an  influential  man  in  the 
community,  apparently  rich,  and  willing,  as  well  as  able, 
to  extend  to  them  large  and  loving  hospitality.  Erastus, 
the  chamberlain  or  treasurer  of  the  city,  follows ;  a  man 
of  consequence  in  Corinth.  And  then,  among  all  these 
people  of  mark,  comes  the  modest,  quiet  Quartus.  He 
has  no  wealth  like  Gains,  nor  civil  position  like  Erastus, 
nor  wide  reputation  like  Timothy.  He  is  only  a  good, 
simple,  unknown  Christian.  He  feels  a  spnng  of  love 
open  in  his  heart  to  these  brethren  far  across  the  sea, 
whom  he  never  met.  He  would  like  them  to  know  that 
he  thought  lovingly  of  them,  and  to  be  lovingly  thought 
of  by  them.  So  he  begs  a  little  corner  in  Paul's  letter, 
and  gets  it ;  and  there,  in  his  little  niche,  like  some  statue 
of  a  forgotten  saint,  scarce  seen  amidst  the  glories  of  a 
great  cathedral,  "  Quartus  a  brother  "  stands  to  all  time. 

The  first  thing  that  strikes  me  in  connection  with  these 
words  is,  how  deep  and  real  they  show  that  new  bond  of 
Christian  love  to  have  been. 

A  little  incident  of  this  sort  is  more  impressive  tnan 
any  amount  of  mere  talk  about  the  uniting  influence  of 
the  Gospel.  Here  we  get  a  glimpse  of  the  power  in 
actual  operation  in  a  man's  heart,  and  if  we  think  of  all 
that  this  simple  greeting  pre-supposes  and  iraj)lies,  and 
of  all  that  had  to  be  overcome  before  it  could  have  been 
sent,  we  may  well  see  in  it  the  sign  of  the  greatest  revo- 
lution that  was  ever  wrought  in  men's  relations  to  one 
another.  Quartus  was  an  inhabitant  of  Corinth,  from 
which  dty  this  letter  was  written.     His  Roman  name 


IS6  QUARTOS  A  BROTHER. 

may  indicate  Roman  descent,  but  of  that  we  cannot  be 
sure.  Just  as  probably  he  may  have  been  a  Greek  by 
birth,  and  so  have  had  to  stretch  his  hand  across  a  deep 
crevasse  of  national  antipathy,  in  order  to  clasp  the  hands 
of  his  brethren  in  the  great  city.  There  was  little  love 
lost  between  Rome,  the  rough  imperious  conqueror,  and 
Corinth,  prostrate  and  yet  restive  under  her  bonds,  and 
nourishing  remembrances  of  a  freedom  which  Rome  had 
crushed,  and  of  a  culture  that  Rome  haltingly  followed. 

And  how  many  other  deep  gulfs  of  separation  had  to 
be  bridged  before  that  Christian  sense  of  oneness  could  be 
felt  I  It  is  impossible  for  us  to  throw  ourselves  completely 
back  to  the  condition  of  things  which  the  Gospel  found. 
The  world  then  was  like  some  great  field  of  cooled  lava 
on  the  slopes  of  a  volcano,  all  broken  up  by  a  labyrinth 
of  clefts  and  cracks,  at  the  bottom  of  which  one  can  see 
the  flicker  of  sulphurous  flames.  Great  gulfs  of  national 
hatred,  of  fierce  enmities  of  race,  language,  and  religion ; 
wide  separations  of  social  condition,  far  profounder  than 
anything  of  the  sort  which  we  know,  split  mankind  into 
fragments.  On  the  one  side  was  the  freeman,  on  the 
other,  the  slave  ;  on  the  one  side,  the  Gentile,  on  the 
other,  the  Jew  ;  on  the  one  side,  the  insolence  and  hard- 
handedness  of  Roman  rule,  on  the  other,  the  impotent, 
and,  therefore,  envenomed  hatred  of  conquered  peoples. 

And  all  this  fabric,  full  of  active  repulsions  and  disin- 
tegrating forces,  was  bound  together  into  an  artificial  and 
unreal  unity  by  the  iron  clamp  of  Rome's  power,  holding 
up  the  bulging  walls  that  were  ready  to  fall — the  unity  of 
the  slave-gang  manacled  together  for  easier  dri\ang.  Into 
this  hideous  condition  of  things  the  Gospel  comes,  and 
silently  flings  its  clasping  tendrils  over  the  wide  gaps, 
ind  binds  the  crumbling  structure  of  human  society  witb 


QUARTUS  A   BROTHER.  |jf 

a  new  bond,  real  and  living.  We  know  well  enough  that 
that  was  so,  but  we  are  helped  to  apprehend  by  seeing, 
as  it  were,  the  very  process  going  on  before  our  eyes,  in 
this  message  from  "  Quartus  a  brother." 

It  reminds  us  that  the  very  notion  of  humanity,  and 
of  the  brotherhood  of  man,  is  purely  Christian.  A  world- 
embracing  society,  held  together  by  love,  was  not  dreamt 
of  before  the  Gospel  came ;  and  since  the  Gospel  came 
it  is  more  than  a  dream.  If  you  wrench  away  the  idea 
from  its  foundation,  as  people  do  who  talk  about  fra- 
ternity, and  seek  to  bring  it  to  pass  without  Christ,  it  is  a 
mere  piece  of  Utopian  sentiment — a  fine  dream.  But  in 
Christianity  it  worked.  It  works  imperfectly  enough, 
God  knows.  Still  there  is  some  reality  in  it,  and  some 
power.  The  Gospel  first  of  all  produced  the  thing  and 
the  practice,  and  then  the  theory  came  afterwards.  The 
Church  did  not  talk  much  about  the  brotherhood  of  man, 
or  the  unity  of  the  race  ;  but  simply  ignored  all  dis- 
tinctions, and  gathered  into  the  fold  the  slave  and  his 
master,  the  Roman  and  his  subject,  fair-haired  Goths  and 
swarthy  Arabians,  the  worshippers  of  Odin  and  of  Zeus, 
the  Jew  and  the  Gentile.  That  actual  unity,  utterly  irre- 
spective of  all  distinctions,  which  came  naturally  in  the 
train  of  the  Gospel,  was  the  first  attempt  to  realize  the 
oneness  of  the  race,  and  first  taught  the  world  that  all 
men  were  brethren. 

And  before  this  simple  word  of  greeting  could  have 
been  sent,  and  the  unknown  man  in  Corinth  felt  love  to 
a  company  of  unknown  men  in  Rome,  some  profound 
new  impulse  must  have  been  given  to  the  world ;  some- 
thing altogether  unlike  any  of  the  forces  hitherto  in  exist- 
ence. What  was  that  ?  What  should  it  be  but  the  story 
of  One  who  gave  Himself  for  the  whole  world,  who  binds 


128  QUARTUS  A  BROTHER. 

men  into  a  unity  because  of  His  common  relation  to  them 
all,  and  through  whom  the  great  proclamation  can  be 
made  :  **  There  is  neither  Jew  nor  Greek,  there  is  neither 
bond  nor  free,  there  is  neither  male  nor  female,  for  ye 
are  all  one  in  Christ  Jesus."  Brother  Quartus*  message, 
like  some  tiny  flower  above-ground  which  tells  of  a 
spreading  root  beneath,  is  a  modest  witness  to  that  mighty 
revolution,  and  pre-supposes  the  preaching  of  a  Savioui 
in  whom  he  and  his  unseen  friends  in  Rome  are  one. 

So  let  us  learn  not  to  confine  our  sympathy  and  the 
play  of  our  Christian  affection  within  the  limits  of  our 
personal  knowledge.  We  must  go  further  a-field  than 
that.  Like  this  man,  let  us  sometimes  send  our  thoughts 
across  mountains  and  sea.  He  knew  nobody  in  the 
Roman  Church,  and  nobody  knew  him,  but  he  wished  to 
stretch  out  his  hand  to  them,  and  to  feel,  as  it  were,  the 
pressure  of  their  fingers  in  his  palm.  That  is  a  pattern 
for  us. 

Let  me  suggest  another  thing.  Quartus  was  a  Corinth- 
ian. The  Corinthian  Church  was  remarkable  for  its 
quarrellings  and  dissensions.  One  "  said,  I  am  of  Paul, 
and  another,  I  of  ApoUos,  and  I  of  Cep'has,  and  I  of 
Christ."  I  wonder  if  our  friend  Quartus  belonged  to  any 
of  these  parties.  There  is  nothing  more  likely  than  that 
he  had  a  much  warmer  glow  of  Christian  love  to  the 
brethren  over  there  in  Rome  than  to  those  who  sat  on 
the  same  bench  with  him  in  the  upper  room  at  Corinth. 
For  you  know  that  sometimes  it  is  true  about  people,  as 
well  as  about  scenery,  that  "  distance  lends  enchantment 
to  the  view."  A  great  many  of  us  have  much  keener 
sympathies  with  "  brethren  "  who  are  well  out  of  our 
reach,  and  whose  peculiarities  do  not  jar  against  ours, 
than  with  those  who  are  nearest.     I  do  not  say  Quartus 


QUARTUS  A  BROTHER.  1*9 

was  one  of  these,  but  he  may  very  well  have  been  one  of 
the  wranglers  in  Corinth  who  found  it  much  easier  to 
love  his  brother  whom  he  had  not  seen  than  his  brother 
whom  he  had  seen.  So  take  the  hint,  if  you  need  it. 
Do  not  let  your  Christian  love  go  wandering  away  abroad 
only,  but  keep  some  for  home  consumption. 

Again,  how  simply,  and  with  what  unconscious  beauty, 
the  deep  reason  for  our  Christian  unity  is  given  in  that 
one  word,  a  "  Brother."  As  if  he  had  said,  Never  mind 
telling  them  anything  about  what  I  am,  what  place  I 
hold,  or  what  1  do.  Tell  them  I  am  a  brother,  that  will 
be  enough.  It  is  the  only  name  by  which  I  care  to  be 
known  ;  it  is  the  name  which  explains  my  love  to  them. 

We  are  brethren  because  we  are  sons  of  one  Father. 
So  that  tavourite  name,  by  which  the  early  Christians 
knew  each  other,  rested  upon  and  proclaimed  the  deep 
truth  that  they  knew  themselves  to  be  all  partakers  of  a 
common  life  derived  from  one  Parent.  When  they  said 
they  were  brethren,  they  implied,  "  We  have  been  bom 
again  by  the  word  of  God,  which  liveth  and  abideth  for 
ever."  The  great  Christian  truth  of  regeneration,  the 
communication  of  a  Divine  life  from  God  the  Father, 
through  Christ  the  Son,  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  is  the  found- 
ation of  Christian  brotherhood.  So  the  name  is  no  mere 
piece  of  effusive  sentiment,  but  expresses  a  profound  fact. 
To  as  many  as  received  Him,  to  them  gave  He  power  to 
become  "  the  sons  of  God,"  and  therein  to  become  the 
brethren  of  all  His  sons. 

That  is  the  true  ground  of  our  unity,  and  of  our  obli- 
gation to  love  all  who  are  begotten  of  Him.  You  cannot 
safely  put  them  on  any  other  footing.  All  else — identity 
of  opinion,  similarity  of  practice  and  ceremonial,  local  or 
national  ties,  and  the  like — all  else  is  insuthcient.    It  may 

K 


IJO  QUARTOS  A  BROTHER. 

be  necessary  for  Christian  communities  to  require  in 
addition  a  general  identity  of  opinion,  and  even  some 
uniformity  in  government  and  form  of  worship ;  but  if 
ever  they  come  to  fancy  that  such  subordinate  conditions 
of  visible  oneness  are  the  grounds  of  their  spiritual  unity, 
and  to  enforce  these  as  such,  they  are  slipping  off  the 
real  foundation,  and  are  perilling  their  character  as 
Chiu-ches  of  Christ  The  true  ground  of  the  unity  of  all 
Christians  is  here  :  "  Have  we  not  all  one  Father  ?  "  We 
possess  a  kindred  life  derived  from  Him.  We  are  a 
family  of  brethren  because  we  are  sons. 

Another  remark  is,  how  strangely  and  unwittingly  this 
good  man  has  got  himself  an  immortality  by  that  passing 
thought  of  his.  One  loving  message  has  won  for  him  the 
prize  for  which  men  have  joyfully  given  life  itself, — an 
eternal  place  in  history.  \Vheresoever  the  Gospel  is 
preached  there  also  shall  this  be  told  as  a  memorial  of 
Iwn.  How  much  surprised  he  would  have  been  if,  as  he 
leaned  forward  to  Tertius  hurrying  to  end  his  task,  and 
said,  "  Send  my  love  too,"  anybody  had  told  him  that 
that  one  act  of  his  would  last  as  long  as  the  world,  and 
his  name  be  known  for  ever  !  And  how  much  ashamed 
some  of  the  other  people  in  the  New  Testament  would 
have  been  if  they  had  known  that  their  passing  faults — the 
quarrel  of  Euodia  and  Syntyche  for  instance — were  to  be 
gibbetted  for  ever  in  the  same  fashion  !  How  careful  they 
would  have  been,  and  we  would  be  of  our  behaviour  if 
we  knew  that  it  was  to  be  pounced  down  upon  and  made 
immortal  in  that  style !  Suppose  you  were  to  be  told — Your 
thoughts  and  acts  to-morrow  at  twelve  o'clock  will  be  re- 
corded for  all  the  world  to  read — you  would  be  pretty 
careful  how  you  behaved.  When  a  speaker  sees  the  re- 
porters in  front  of  him,  he  weighs  his  words. 


QUARTUS  A  BROTHER.  IJI 

Well,  Quartus'  little  message  is  written  down  here,  and 
'^-  world  knows  it.  All  our  words  and  works  are  getting 
l^ui  down  too  in  another  Book  up  there,  and  it  is  going  to 
be  read  out  one  day.  It  does  seem  wonderful  that  you  and 
I  should  live  as  we  do,  knowing  all  the  while  that  God  is 
recording  it  all.  If  we  are  not  ashamed  to  do  things,  and 
let  Him  note  them  "  on  His  tablets  that  they  may  be  for 
the  time  to  come,  for  ever  and  ever,"  it  is  strange  that  we 
should  be  more  careful  to  attitudinize  and  pose  ourselves 
before  one  another  than  before  Him.  Let  us  then  keep 
ever  in  mind  "those  pure  eyes  and  perfect  witness  of" 
the  "  all-judging  "  God.  The  eternal  record  of  this  little 
message  is  only  a  symbol  of  the  eternal  life  and  eternal 
record  of  all  our  transient  and  trivial  thoughts  and 
deeds  before  Him.  Let  us  live  so  that  each  act  if  re- 
corded would  shine  with  some  modest  ray  of  true  light 
like  brother  Quartus'  greeting.  And  let  us  seek  that, 
like  him, — all  else  about  us  being  forgotten,  position, 
talents,  wealth,  buried  in  the  dust, — we  may  be  remember- 
ed, if  we  are  remembered  at  all,  by  such  a  biography  as 
is  condensed  into  these  three  words.  Who  would  not  ^vish 
to  have  such  an  epitaph  as  this  ?  who  would  not  wish  to 
be  embalmed,  so  to  speak,  in  such  a  record  ?  A  sweet  fate 
to  live  for  ever  in  the  world's  memory  by  three  words 
which  tell  his  name,  his  Christianity,  and  his  brotherly 
love.  So  far  as  we  are  remembered  at  all,  may  the  like 
be  our  life's  history  and  our  epitaph  1 


XV. 

SHOD    FOR  THE   ROAD. 


Deuteronomy  xxxiiL  25. 

Thy  shoes  sheUl  be  iron  and  brass  ;  and  as  thy  d«ys»  so  skali 

thy  strength  be. 

T^HERE  is  a  general  correspondence  between  those 
-*■  blessings  wherewith  Moses  blessed  the  tribes  of  Israel 
before  his  death,  and  the  circumstances  and  territory  of 
each  tribe  in  the  promised  land.  The  portion  of  Asher, 
in  whose  blessing  the  words  of  our  text  occurs,  was  partly 
the  rocky  northern  coast  and  partly  the  fertile  lands 
stretching  to  the  base  of  the  Lebanon.  In  the  inland 
part  of  their  land  they  cultivated  large  olive  groves,  the 
produce  of  which  was  trodden  out  in  great  rock-hewn 
cisterns.  So  the  clause  before  my  text  is  a  benediction 
upon  that  industry — "  let  him  dip  his  foot  in  oil."  And 
then  the  metaphor  naturally  suggested  by  the  mention  of 
the  foot  is  carried  on  into  the  next  words,  "  Thy  shoes 
shall  be  iron  and  brass,"  the  tribe  being  located  upon 
rocky  sea-coast,  having  rough  roads  to  travel,  and  so 
needing  to  be  well  shod.  The  substance,  then,  of  that 
promise  seems  to  be — strength  adequate  to  and  unworn 
by  exercise ;  while  the  second  clause,  though  not  alto* 
gether  plain,  seems  to  put  a  somewhat  similar  idea  in 


&riuD  FOR   THE    ROAD.  1^$ 

unmetaphorical  shape.  "As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy 
strength  be,"  probably  means  the  promise  of  power  that 
grows  with  growing  years. 

So,  then,  we  have  first  that  thought  that  God  gives  as 
an  equipment  of  strength  proportioned  to  our  work, — shoes 
fit  for  our  road.  God  does  not  turn  people  out  to 
scramble  over  rough  mountains  with  thin-soled  boots  on  ; 
that  is  the  plain  English  of  the  words.  When  an  Alpine 
climber  is  preparing  to  go  away  into  Switzerland  for  rock 
work,  the  first  thing  he  does  is  to  get  a  pair  of  strong 
shoes,  with  plenty  of  iron  nails  in  the  soles  of  them.  So 
Asher  had  to  be  shod  for  his  rough  roads,  and  so  each  of 
us  may  be  sure  that  if  God  sends  us  on  stony  paths  He 
will  provide  us  with  strong  shoes,  and  will  not  send  us 
out  on  any  journey  for  which  He  does  not  equip  us  well. 
There  are  no  difficulties  to  be  found  in  any  path  of 
duty  for  which  he  that  is  called  to  tread  it  is  not  pre- 
pared by  Him  that  sent  him.  Whatsoever  may  be  the 
road,  our  equipment  is  calculated  for  it,  and  is  given  to 
us  from  Him  that  has  appointed  it. 

Is  not  there  a  suggestion  here,  too,  as  to  the  sort  of 
travelling  we  may  expect  to  find  ?  An  old  saying  tells  us 
that  we  do  not  go  to  heaven  in  silver  slippers,  and  the 
reason  is  because  the  road  is  rough.  The  "  primrose 
way  "  leads  somewhere  else,  and  //  may  be  walked  on 
*'  delicately."  But  if  we  need  shoes  of  iron  and  brass,  we 
may  pretty  well  guess  the  kind  of  road  we  have  before  us. 
If  a  man  is  equipped  with  such  things  on  his  feet,  depend 
upon  it  that  there  will  be  use  for  them  before  he  gets  to 
the  end  of  his  day's  journey.  The  thickest  sole  wC\  make 
the  easiest  travelling  over  rocky  roads.  So  be  quite  sure 
of  this,  that  if  God  gives  to  us  certain  endowments  and 
equipments  which  are  only  calculated  for  very  toilsome 


134  SHOD  FOR  THE  ROAD. 

paths,  the  rough  work  will  not  be  very  far  behind  the 
stout  shoes. 

And  see  what  He  does  give.  See  the  provision  which 
is  made  for  patience  and  strength,  for  endurance  and 
courage,  in  all  the  messages  of  His  mercy,  in  all  the  words 
of  His  love,  in  all  the  powers  of  His  Gospel,  and  then 
say  whether  that  looks  like  an  easy  life  of  it  on  our  way 
to  the  end.  Those  two  ships  that  went  away  a  while  ago 
upon  the  brave,  and,  as  some  people  thought,  desperate 
task  of  finding  the  North  Pole — any  one  that  looked 
upon  them  as  they  lay  in  Portsmouth  Roads,  might  know 
that  it  was  no  holiday  cruise  they  were  meant  for.  The 
thickness  of  the  sides,  the  strength  of  the  cordage,  the 
massiveness  of  the  equipment,  did  not  look  like  pleasure- 
tailing. 

And  so,  dear  brethren,  if  we  think  of  all  that  is  given 
to  us  in  God's  Gospel  in  the  way  of  stimulus  and  en- 
couragement, and  exhortation,  and  actual  communication 
of  powers,  we  may  calculate  from  the  abundance  of  the 
resources  how  great  will  be  the  strain  upon  us  before 
we  come  to  the  end,  and  our  "feet  stand  within  thy 
gates,  O  Jerusalem."  Go  into  some  of  the  great  fortresses 
in  continental  countries,  and  you  will  find  the  store-rooms 
full  of  ammunition  and  provisions ;  bread  enough  and 
biscuits  enough,  it  would  look,  for  half  the  country,  laid 
up  there,  and  a  deep  well  somewhere  or  other  about  the 
courtyard.  What  does  that  mean?  It  means  fighting, 
that  is  what  it  means.  So  if  we  are  brought  into  this 
strong  pavilion,  so  well  provisioned,  so  well  fortified  and 
defended,  that  means  that  we  shall  need  all  the  strength 
that  is  to  be  found  in  those  thick  walls,  and  all  the  suste- 
nance that  is  to  be  found  in  those  gorged  magaxines,  and 
all  the  refreshment  that  is  to  be  drawn  firom  that  fair,  and 


SHOD    FOR   THE   ROAD.  135 

fiill,  and  inexhaustible  fountain,  before  the  battle  is  ovcf 
and  the  victory  won.  Depend  upon  it,  the  piomise 
"  Thy  shoes  shall  be  iron  and  brass,"  means  Thy  road 
shall  be  rocky  and  flinty ;  and  so  it  is. 

And  yet,  thank  God !  whilst  it  is  true  that  it  is  very 
hard  and  very  difficult  for  many  of  us,  and  hard  and  diffi- 
cult— even  if  without  the  "very" — for  us  all,  it  is  also  true 
that  we  have  the  adequate  provision  sufficient  for  all  our 
necessities — and  far  more  than  sufficient !  Oh,  it  is  a 
poor  compliment  to  the  strength  that  He  gives  to  us  to 
say  that  it  is  enough  to  carry  us  through  !  God  does  not 
deal  out  His  gifts  to  people  with  such  an  economical 
correspondence  to  necessities  as  that.  There  is  always 
a  wide  margin.  More  than  we  can  ask,  more  than  we 
can  think,  more  than  we  can  need. 

If  He  were  to  deal  with  us  as  men  often  deal  with  one 
another — "  Well,  how  much  do  you  want  ?  Cannot  you 
do  with  a  little  less  ?  There  is  the  exact  quantity  that 
you  need  for  your  support" — if  you  got  the  bread  by 
weight  and  the  water  by  measure,  it  would  be  a  very 
poor  affair.  See  how  He  does.  He  says,  "  See,  there 
is  Mine  own  strength  for  you  3 "  and  we  think  that  we 
honour  Him  when  we  say,  "  God  has  given  us  enough 
for  our  necessities."  Rather  the  old  word  is  always  true : 
'*  So  they  did  eat,  and  were  filled ;  and  they  took  up  of 
the  fragments  that  remained  seven  baskets-fulL"  And 
after  they  were  satisfied  and  replete  with  the  provision, 
there  was  more  at  the  end  than  when  they  began. 

That  suggests  another  possible  thought  to  be  drawn 
from  this  promise,  namely,  that  it  assures  not  only  of 
strength  adequate  to  the  difficulties  and  perils  of  the 
journey,  but  also  of  a  strength  which  is  not  worn  oid 
ky  uu. 


IfS  SHOD    FOR   THE   ROAD. 

The  portion  of  Asher  was  the  rocky  sea-coast.  The 
sharp,  jagged  rocks  would  cut  anything  of  leather  to 
pieces  long  before  the  day's  march  was  over ;  but  the 
tribe  has  got  its  feet  shod  with  metal,  and  the  rocks  which 
they  have  to  stumble  over  will  only  strike  fire  from  their 
shoes.  They  need  not  step  timidly  for  fear  of  wearing 
them  out ;  but  wherever  they  have  to  march,  may  go  with 
full  confidence  that  their  shoeing  will  not  fail  them.  A 
wise  general  looks  after  that  part  of  his  soldiers'  outfit 
with  special  care,  knowing  that  if  it  gives  all  the  rest  is  of 
no  use.  So  our  Captain  provides  us  with  an  inexhaust- 
ible strength,  to  which  we  may  fiilly  trust.  We  shall  not 
exhaust  it  by  any  demands  that  we  can  make  upon  it. 
We  shall  only  brighten  it  up,  like  the  nails  in  a  well-used 
shoe,  the  heads  of  which  are  polished  by  stumbling  and 
scrambling  over  rocky  roads. 

So  we  may  be  bold  in  the  march,  and  draw  upon  our 
stock  of  strength  to  the  utmost  There  is  no  fear  that  it  will 
fail  us.  We  may  put  all  our  force  into  our  work,  we  shall 
not  weaken  the  power  which  "  by  reason  of  use  is  exer- 
cised" not  exhausted.  For  the  grace  which  Christ  gives 
us  to  serve  Him,  being  Divine,  is  subject  to  no  weariness, 
and  neither  faints  nor  fails.  The  bush  that  burned  un- 
consumed  is  a  type  of  that  Infinite  Being  which  works 
unexhausted,  and  lives  undying ;  after  all  expenditure 
is  rich ;  after  all  pouring  forth  is  full  And  of  His 
strength  we  partake. 

Whensoever  a  man  puts  forth  an  effort  of  any  kind 
whatever — when  I  speak,  when  I  lift  my  hand,  when  I 
run,  when  I  think — there  is  waste  of  muscular  tissue. 
Some  of  my  strength  goes  in  the  act,  and  thus  every 
effort  means  expenditure  and  diminution  of  force.  Hence 
weariness  that  needs  sleep,  waste  that  needs  food,  languor 


SHOD   FOR   THE   ROAD.  137 

that  needs  rest.  We  belong  to  an  order  of  things  in 
which  work  is  death,  in  regard  of  the  physical  world  ;  but 
our  spirits  may  lay  hold  of  God,  and  enter  into  an  order 
c^  things  in  which  work  is  not  death,  nor  effort  exhaustion, 
nor  any  loss  of  power  in  the  expenditure  of  power. 

That  sounds  strange  !  And  yet  it  is  not  strange.  Did 
you  ever  see  that  electric  light  which  is  made  by  directing 
a  strong  stream  upon  two  small  pieces  of  carbon  ?  As  the 
electricity  strikes  upon  these  and  turns  their  blackness 
into  a  fiery  blaze,  it  eats  away  their  substance  as  it 
changes  them  into  light  But  there  is  an  arrangement  in 
the  lamp  by  which  a  fresh  surface  is  continually  being 
brought  into  the  path  of  the  beam,  and  so  the  light  con- 
nnues  without  wavering  and  blazes  on.  The  carbon  is 
our  human  nature,  black  and  dull  in  itself ;  the  electric 
beam  is  the  swift  energy  of  God,  which  makes  us  light  in 
the  Lord.  For  the  one  decay  is  the  end  of  effort ;  for 
the  other  there  is  none.  Though  our  outward  man 
perish,  yet  the  inward  man  is  renewed  day  by  day. 
Though  we  belong  to  the  perishing  order  of  nature  by 
our  bodily  frame,  we  belong  to  the  undecaying  realm  of 
grace  by  the  spirit  that  lays  hold  upon  God.  And  if 
our  work  weary  us,  as  it  must  do  so  long  as  we  continue 
here,  yet  in  the  deepest  sanctuary  of  our  being  om 
strength  is  quickened  by  exercise.  "  Thy  shoes  shall  be 
iron  and  brass."  "  Thy  raiment  waxed  not  old  upon  thee, 
neither  did  thy  foot  swell,  these  forty  years."  "  Stand, 
therefore,  having  your  feet  shod  with  the  preparedness  of 
the  Gospel  of  peace." 

But  this  is  not  all.  There  is  an  advance  even  upon 
these  great  promises  in  the  closing  words.  That  second 
clause  of  our  text  says  more  than  the  first  one.  "Thy 
ihoes  shall  be  iron  and  brass."    That  promises  us  powers 


138  SHOD    FOR    THE    ROAD 

and  provision  adapted  to  and  unexhausted  by  the  weary 
pilgrimage  and  rough  road  of  life.  But  **  as  thy  days,  so 
shall  thy  strength  be,"  says  even  more  than  that.  The 
meaning  of  the  word  rendered  "  strength  "  in  our  version 
is  very  doubtful,  and  most  modern  translators  are  inclined 
to  render  it  "  rest."  But  if  we  adhere  to  the  translation 
of  our  version,  we  get  a  forcible  and  relevant  promise, 
which  fits  on  well  to  the  previous  clause,  understood  as  it 
has  been  in  my  previous  remarks.  The  usual  understand- 
ing of  the  words  is  "strength  proportioned  to  thy  day," 
an  idea  which  we  have  found  already  suggested  by  the 
previous  clause.  But  that  explanation  rests  on,  or  at  any 
rate  derives  support  from,  the  common  misquotation  of 
the  words.  They  are  not,  as  we  generally  hear  them 
quoted,  "  As  thy  day,  so  shall  thy  strength  be," — but 
"  day  "  is  in  the  plural,  and  that  makes  a  great  difference. 
"  As  thy  days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be."  That  is  to  say  : 
the  two  sums — of  "  thy  days  "  and  of  "  thy  strength  " — 
keep  growing  side  by  side,  the  one  as  fast  as  the  other 
and  no  faster.  The  days  increase.  Well,  what  then  ? 
The  strength  increases  too.  As  I  said,  we  are  allied  to 
two  worlds.  According  to  the  law  of  one  of  them,  the 
outer  world  of  physical  life,  we  soon  reach  the  summit  of 
human  strength.  For  a  little  while  it  is  true,  even  in  the 
life  of  nature,  that  our  power  grows  with  our  days.  But 
we  soon  reach  the  watershed,  and  then  the  opposite  comes 
to  be  true.  Down,  steadily  down  we  go  with  diminishing 
power,  with  diminishing  vitality,  with  a  dimmer  eye,  with 
an  obtuser  ear,  with  a  slower  beating  heart,  with  a  feebler 
frame,  we  march  on  and  on  to  our  grave  !  '*'  As  thy  days,  so 
shall  thy  weakness  be,"  is  the  law  for  all  of  us  mature  men 
and  women  in  regard  to  our  outward  life. 

But  oh,  dear  brethren,  we  may  be  emancipated  from 


SHOD  FOR  THE  ROAD.  139 

that  dreary  law  in  regard  to  the  true  life  of  our  spirits,  and 
instead  of  getting  weaker  as  we  get  older,  we  may  and  we 
should  get  stronger.  We  may  be  and  we  should  be 
moving  on  a  course  that  has  no  limit  to  its  advance.  We 
may  be  travelling  on  a  shining  path  through  the  heavens, 
that  has  no  noon-tide  height  from  which  it  must  slowly 
and  sadly  decline,  but  tends  steadily  and  for  ever  upwards, 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  very  fountain  itself  of  heavenly 
radiance.  "  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light, 
which  shineth  more  and  more  till  the  noon-tide  of  the 
day."  But  the  reality  surpasses  even  that  grand  thought, 
for  it  points  us  to  an  endless  approximation,  to  an  infinite 
beauty,  and  to  ever-growing  possession  of  never  ex- 
hausted fulness,  as  the  law  for  the  progress  of  all  Christ's 
servants.  The  life  of  each  of  us  may  and  should  be  con 
tinual  accession  and  increase  of  power  through  all  the 
days  here,  through  all  the  ages  beyond.  Why  ?  Because 
"  the  life  which  I  live,  I  live  by  the  faith  of  the  Son  of 
God."  Christ  liveth  in  me.  It  is  not  my  strength  that 
grows,  so  much  as  God's  strength  in  me  which  is  given 
more  abundantly  as  the  days  roll.  It  is  so  given  on  one 
condition.  If  my  faith  has  laid  hold  of  the  infinite,  the 
exhaustless,  the  immortal  energy  of  God,  unless  there  is 
something  fearfully  wrong  about  me  I  shall  be  getting 
purer,  nobler,  wiser ;  more  observant  of  His  will ;  gentler, 
liker  Christ;  every  way  fitter  for  His  service,  and  for  larger 
service,  as  the  days  increase. 

Those  of  us  who  have  reached  middle  life,  or  perhaps 
got  a  litde  over  the  watershed,  ought  to  have  this  experi- 
ence as  our  own  in  a  very  distinct  degree.  The  years 
Aat  are  gone  ought  to  have  drawn  us  somewhat  away 
from  our  hot  pursuing  after  earthly  and  perishable  things. 
Tliey  should  have  added  something  to  the  clearness  and 


140  SHOD   FOR   THE   ROAD. 

completeness  of  our  perception  of  the  deep  simplicity  of 
God's  gospel.  They  should  have  tightened  our  hold  and 
increased  our  possession  of  Christ,  unfolding  more  and 
more  of  His  all-sufficiency.  They  should  have  enriched 
us  with  memories  of  God's  loving  care,  and  lighted  all  the 
sky  behind  with  a  glow  which  is  reflected  on  the  path 
before  us,  and  becomes  calm  confidence  in  His  unfailing 
goodness.  They  should  have  given  us  power  and  skill 
for  the  conflicts  that  yet  remain,  as  the  Red  Indians  be- 
lieve that  the  strength  of  every  defeated  and  scalped 
enemy  passes  into  his  conqueror's  arm.  They  should 
have  given  force  to  our  better  nature,  and  weakening, 
progressive  weakening,  to  our  worse.  They  should  have 
rooted  us  more  firmly  and  abidingly  in  Him  from  whom 
all  our  power  comes,  and  so  have  given  us  more  and 
fuller  supplies  of  His  exhaustless  and  ever-flowing  might. 

So  it  may  be  with  us  if  we  abide  in  Him,  without  whom 
we  are  nothing,  but  partaking  of  whose  strength  '*the 
weakest  shall  be  as  David,  and  David  as  an  angel  of  God." 

If  for  us,  drawing  nearer  to  the  end  is  drawing  nearer 
to  the  light,  our  faces  shall  be  brightened  more  and  more 
with  that  light  which  we  approach,  and  our  path  shall  be 
"  as  the  shining  light  which  shines  more  and  more  imto 
the  noon-tide  of  the  day,"  because  we  are  closer  to  the 
very  fountain  of  heavenly  radiance,  and  glowingly  bathed 
and  flooded  with  the  outgoings  of  His  glory.  "  As  thy 
days,  so  shall  thy  strength  be." 

The  promise  ought  to  be  true  for  us  all.  li  is  true  for 
all  who  use  the  things  that  are  freely  given  to  them  of 
God  And  whilst  thus  it  is  the  law  for  the  devout  life 
here,  its  most  glorious  fulfilment  remains  for  the  life  be- 
yood.  There  each  new  moment  shall  bring  new  strength, 
and  growing  min<»nninnnR  but  add  fresh  vigour  to  our  im- 


SHOD   FOR  THE   ROAD,  I4I 

mortal  life.  Here  the  unresting  beat  of  the  waves  of  the 
sea  of  time  gnaws  away  the  bank  and  shoal  whereon  we 
stand,  but  there  each  roll  of  that  great  ocean  of  eternity 
shall  but  spread  new  treasures  at  our  feet  and  add  new 
acres  to  our  immortal  heritage.  The  oldest  angels,  says 
Swedenborg,  seem  the  youngest.  When  life  is  immor- 
tal, the  longer  it  lasts  the  stronger  it  becomes,  and  so  the 
spirits  that  have  stood  for  countless  days  before  His 
throne,  when  they  appear  to  human  eyes  appear  as 
''young  men  clothed  in  long  white  garments" — full  of 
unaging  youth,  and  energy  that  cannot  wane.  So,  whilst 
in  the  flesh  we  must  obey  the  law  of  decay,  the  spirit  may 
be  subject  to  this  better  law  of  life,  and  "  while  the  out- 
ward man  perisheth,  the  inward  man  be  renewed  day  by 
day."  "  Even  the  youths  shall  faint  and  be  weary,  and  the 
young  men  shall  utterly  fall ;  but  they  that  wait  on  the 
Lord  shall  renew  their  strength.'' 


XVI. 

TAKING  FROM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD 


Psalm  cxvi.  12,  13. 

What  sball  *I  render  onto  the  Lord  for  all  His  benefits  towards 
me  ?  I  will  take  the  cnp  of  salvation  and  call  upon  the  name  of 
the  Lord. 

''F*HERE  may  possibly  be  a  reference  here  to  a  part  of 
the  Passover  ritual.  It  seems  to  have  become  the 
custom  in  later  times  to  lift  high  the  wine-cup  at  that 
feast  and  drink  it  with  solemn  invocation  and  glad  thanks- 
giving. So  we  find  our  Lord  takmg  the  cup — the  "  cup 
of  blessing  "  as  Paul  calls  it — and  giving  thanks.  But,  as 
there  is  no  record  of  the  introduction  of  that  addition  to 
the  original  Paschal  celebration,  we  do  not  know  but  that 
it  was  later  than  the  date  of  this  psalm.  Nor  is  there  any 
need  to  suppose  such  an  allusion  in  order  either  to  ex- 
plain or  to  give  picturesque  force  to  the  words.  It  is  a 
most  natural  thing,  as  all  languages  show,  to  talk  of  a 
man's  lot,  either  of  sorrow  or  joy,  as  the  cup  which  he  has 
to  drink ;  and  there  are  plenty  of  instances  of  the  meta- 
phor in  the  Psalms,  such  as  "Thou  art  the  portion  of 
mine  inheritance  and  of  my  cup,  Thou  maintainest  my 
fOt."  "  My  cup  runneth  over."  That  familiar  emblem  is 
all  that  is  wanted  here. 


TAKING  FROM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD.  143 

Then,  one  other  point  in  reference  to  the  mere  wordi 
of  the  text  may  be  noticed.  "  Salvation "  can  scarcely 
be  taken  in  its  highest  meaning  here,  both  because  the 
whole  tone  of  the  psalm  fixes  its  reference  to  lower  bless- 
ings, and  because  it  is  in  the  plural  in  the  Hebrew. 
**  The  cup  of  salvation  "  expresses,  by  that  plural  form, 
the  fulness  and  variety  of  the  manifold  and  multiform  de- 
liverances which  God  had  wrought  and  was  working  for 
the  Psalmist.  His  whole  lot  in  life  appears  to  him  as  a 
cup-full  of  tender  goodness,  loving  faithfulness,  delivering 
grace.  It  runs  over  with  Divine  acts  of  help  and  susten- 
ance. As  his  grateful  heart  thinks  of  all  God's  benefits 
to  him,  he  feels  at  once  the  impulse  to  requite  and  the 
impossibility  of  doing  it  With  a  kind  of  glad  despair 
he  asks  the  question  that  ever  springs  to  thankful  lips,  and 
having  nothing  to  give,  recognizes  the  only  possible  re- 
turn to  God  to  be  the  acceptance  of  the  brimming 
chalice  which  His  goodness  commends  to  his  thirst. 

The  great  thought,  then,  which  lies  here  is  that  we 
best  requite  God  by  thankfully  taking  what  He  gives. 

Now,  I  note  to  begin  with — haw  deep  that  thought  goes 
into  the  heart  of  God. 

\Vhy  is  it  that  we  honour  God  most  by  taking,  not 
by  giving?  The  first  answer  that  occurs  to  you,  no 
doubt,  is — because  of  His  all-sufficiency  and  our  empti- 
ness. Man  receives  all.  God  needs  nothing.  We  have 
all  to  say,  after  all  our  service,  "of  Thine  own  have 
we  given  Thee."  No  doubt  that  is  quite  true;  and 
rightly  understood  that  is  a  strengthening  and  a  glad 
truth.  But  is  that  all  which  can  be  said  in  explanation  of 
this  principle  ?  Surely  not.  **  If  I  were  hungry  I  would 
not  tell  thee;  for  the  world  is  Mine  and  the  fulnesi 
thereof,"  is  a  grand  word,  but  it  d^es  not  give  all  the 


144  TAKING  FRuM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD. 

truth.  When  Paul  stood  on  Mars  Hill,  and  within  sight 
of  the  fair  images  of  the  Parthenon  shattered  the  intel- 
lectual basis  of  idolatry,  by  proclaiming  a  God  "  not  wor- 
shipped with  men's  hands  as  though  He  needed  anjrthing, 
seeing  He  giveth  to  all  men  all  things,"  that  truth,  mighty 
as  it  is,  is  not  all.  We  requite  God  by  taking  rather  than 
by  giving,  not  merely  because  He  needs  nothing  and  we 
have  nothing  which  is  not  His.  If  that  were  all,  it  might 
be  as  true  of  an  almighty  tyrant,  and  might  be  so  used  as 
to  forbid  all  worship  before  the  gloomy  presence,  to  give 
reverence  and  love  to  whom  were  as  impertinent  as  the 
grossest  offerings  of  savage  idolaters.  But  the  motive  of 
His  giving  to  us  is  the  deepest  reason  why  our  best 
recompense  to  Him  is  our  thankful  reception  of  His 
mercies.  The  principle  of  our  text  reposes  at  last  on 
"  God  is  love  and  wishes  our  hearts,"  and  not  merely  on 
"  God  has  all  and  does  not  need  our  gifts." 

Take  the  illustration  of  our  own  love  and  gifts.  Do  we 
not  feel  that  all  the  beauty  and  bloom  of  a  gift  is  gone  if 
the  giver  hoped  to  receive  as  much  again  ?  Do  we  not 
feel  that  it  is  all  gone  if  the  receiver  thinks  of  repaying  it 
in  any  coin  but  that  of  the  heart  ?  Love  gives  because  it 
delights  in  giving.  It  gives  that  it  may  express  itself  and 
may  bless  the  recipient.  If  there  be  any  thought  of 
return  it  is  only  the  return  of  love.  And  that  is  how  God 
gives.  As  James  puts  it.  He  is  "  the  giving  God, — ^who 
gives,"  not  as  our  version  inadequately  renders,  "liberally," 
but  "  iimply  " — that  is,  I  suppose,  with  a  single  eye,  with- 
out any  ulterior  view  to  personal  advantage,  from  the  im- 
pulse of  love  alone,  and  having  no  end  but  our  good. 
Therefore,  it  is — because  of  that  pure,  perfect  love,  that 
He  delights  in  no  recompense,  but  only  in  the  payment  of 
I  heart  won  to  His  love  and  melted  by  His  merdea. 


TAKING  FROM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD.   145 

Therefore  it  is  that  His  hand  is  outstretched,  "hoping 
for  nothing  again."  His  Almighty  all-sufficiency  needs 
nought  from  us,  and  to  all  heathen  notions  of  worship 
and  tribute  puts  the  question  :  "  Do  ye  requite  the  Lxjrd, 
O  foolish  people  and  unwise  ? "  But  His  deep  heart  ot 
love  desires  and  delights  in  the  echo  of  its  own  tones  that 
is  evoked  among  the  rocky  hardnesses  of  our  hearts,  and 
is  glad  when  we  take  the  full  cup  of  His  blessings,  and 
as  we  raise  it  to  our  lips  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
Is  not  that  a  great  and  a  gracious  thought,  of  our  God  and 
of  His  great  purpose  in  His  mercies  ? 

But  now  let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  the  eUmmt: 
which  make  up  this  rrquital  of  God  in  which  He  delights 
And  first — I  put  a  very  simple  and  obvious  one — let  us 
be  sure  that  we  recognize  the  real  contents  of  our  cup. 
It  «  a  cup  of  salvations,  however  hard  it  is  sometimes  to 
believe  it.  How  much  blessing  and  happiness  we  all 
rob  ourselves  of  by  our  slowness  to  feel  that !  Some  of 
us  by  reason  of  natural  temperament;  some  of  us  by 
reason  of  the  pressure  of  anxieties,  and  the  aching  of 
sorrows,  and  the  bleeding  of  wounds ;  some  of  us  by 
reason  of  mere  blindness  to  the  true  character  of  our 
present,  have  little  joyous  sense  of  the  real  brightness  of 
our  days.  It  seems  as  if  joys  must  have  passed,  and  be 
seen  in  the  transfiguring  light  of  memory,  before  we  can  dis- 
cern their  fairness ;  and  then,  when  their  place  is  empty, 
we  know  that  we  were  entertaining  angels  unawares. 
Many  a  man  and  woman  lives  in  the  gloom  of  a  life-long 
regret  for  the  loss  of  some  gift,  which,  when  they  had  it, 
seemed  nothing  very  extraordinary,  and  could  not  keep 
them  from  annoyance  with  trifles.  Common  sense  and 
reasonable  regard  for  our  own  happiness  and  religious 
dufy  unite,  as  they  always  do,  in  bidding  us  take  care 

L 


146  TAKING  FROM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD. 

that  we  know  our  blessings.  Do  not  let  custom  blind 
you  to  them.  Do  not  let  tears  so  fill  your  eyes  that  you 
cannot  see  the  goodness  of  the  Lord.  Do  not  let  thunder- 
clouds, however  heavy  their  lurid  piles,  shut  out  from 
you  the  blue  that  is  in  your  sky.  Do  not  let  the  empty 
cup  be  your  first  teacher  of  the  blessings  you  had  when 
it  was  fiilL  Do  not  let  a  hard  place  here  and  there  in  the 
bed  destroy  your  rest  Seek,  as  a  plain  duty,  to  cultivate 
a  buoyant,  joyous  sense  of  the  crowded  kindnesses  of 
God  in  your  daily  life.  Take  fiill  account  of  all  the 
pains,  all  the  bitter  ingredients,  remembering  that  for  us 
weak  and  sinfiil  men  the  bitter  is  needfiiL  If  still  the 
cup  seem  charged  with  distastefiil  draught,  remember 
whose  lip  has  touched  its  rim,  leaving  its  sacred  kiss 
there,  and  whose  hand  holds  it  out  to  you.  He  says, 
"  Do  this  in  remembrance  of  Me."  The  cup  which  my 
Saviour  giveth  me,  can  it  be  anything  but  a  cup  of  sal- 
vations ? 

Then,  again,  another  of  the  elements  of  this  Requital 
of  God  is — be  sure  that  you  take  what  God  gives. 

There  can  be  no  greater  slight  and  dishonour  to  a 
giver  than  to  have  his  gifts  neglected  You  give  some- 
thing that  has,  perhaps,  cost  you  much,  or  which  at  any 
rate  has  your  heart  in  it,  to  your  child,  or  other  dear 
one ;  would  it  not  wound  you,  if  a  day  or  two  after  you 
found  it  tossing  about  among  a  heap  of  unregarded 
trifles  ?  Suppose  that  some  of  those  Rajahs  that  received 
presents  on  the  recent  royal  visit  to  India  had  gone  out 
from  the  durbar  and  flung  them  into  the  kennel,  that 
would  have  been  insult  and  disafiection,  would  it  not  ? 
But  these  illustrations  are  trivial  by  the  side  of  our 
treatment  of  the  "  giving  God."  Surely  of  all  the  folliei 
and  crimes  of  our  foolish  and  criminal  race,  there  are 


TAKING  FROM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD.  147 

none  to  match  this — that  we  will  not  take  and  make  our 
own  the  things  that  are  freely  given  to  us  of  God  This 
JB  the  height  of  all  madness ;  this  is  the  lowest  depth  of 
all  sin.  He  spares  not  His  own  Son,  the  Son  spares  not 
Himsel£  The  Father  gives  up  His  Son  for  us  all  because 
He  loves.  The  Son  loves  us,  and  gives  Himself  to  us 
and  for  us.  And  we  stand  with  our  hands  folded  on  our 
breasts,  will  not  condescend  so  much  as  to  stretch  them 
out,  or  hold  our  blessings  with  so  slack  a  grasp  that  at  any 
time  we  may  let  them  slip  through  our  careless  fingers. 
He  prays  us  with  much  entreaty  to  receive  the  gift,  and 
neglect  and  stolid  indifference  are  His  requital  Is  there 
anything  worse  than  that  ?  Surely  Scripture  is  right  when 
it  makes  the  sin  of  sins  that  unbelief,  which  is  at  bottom 
nothing  else  than  a  refusal  to  take  the  cup  of  salvation 
Surely  no  sharper  grief  can  be  inflicted  on  the  Spirit  of 
God  than  when  we  leave  Hb  gifts  neglected  and  un- 
appropriated. 

In  the  highest  region  of  all,  how  many  of  these  there 
are  which  we  treat  so !  A  Saviour  and  His  pardoning 
blood ;  a  Spirit  and  His  quickening  energies ;  that  eternal 
life  which  might  spring  in  our  souls  a  fountain  of  Uving 
waters — all  these  are  ours.  Are  we  as  strong  as  we  might 
be  if  we  used  the  strength  which  we  have  ?  How  comes 
it  that  with  the  fulness  of  God  at  our  sides  we  are 
empty ;  that  with  the  word  of  God  in  our  hands  we  know 
so  little }  that  with  the  Spirit  of  God  in  our  hearts  we 
are  so  fleshly;  that  with  the  joy  of  our  God  for  our 
portion  we  are  so  troubled ;  that  with  the  heart  of  God 
for  our  hiding-place  we  are  so  defenceless  ?  "  We  have 
all  and  abound,*'  and  yet  we  are  poor  and  needy,  like 
some  infatuated  beggar  in  rags  and  wretchedness,  to 
whom  wealth  had  been  fiven  which  he  would  not  use 


148  TAKING  FROM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD. 

In  the  lower  region  of  daily  life  and  common  mercies 
the  same  strange  slov^Tiess  to  take  what  we  have  is  found. 
There  are  very  few  men  who  really  make  the  best  of  their 
circumstances.  Most  of  us  are  far  less  happy  than  we 
might  be,  if  we  had  learned  the  Divine  art  of  wringing  the 
last  drop  of  good  out  of  everything.  After  our  rude 
attempts  at  smelting  there  is  a  great  deal  of  valuable 
metal  left  in  the  dross,  which  a  wiser  system  would  ex- 
tract. One  wonders  when  one  gets  a  glimpse  of  how 
much  of  the  raw  material  of  happiness  goes  to  waste  in 
the  manufacture  iii  all  our  lives.  There  is  so  little  to 
spare,  and  yet  so  much  is  flung  away.  It  needs  a  great 
deal  of  practical  wisdom,  and  a  great  deal  of  strong,  manly 
Christian  principle,  to  make  the  most  of  what  God  gives 
us.  Watchfulness,  self-restraint,  the  power  of  suppressing 
anxieties  and  taking  no  thought  for  the  morrow,  and  most 
of  all,  the  habitual  temper  of  fellowship  with  God,  which 
is  the  most  potent  agent  in  the  chemistry  that  extracts  its 
healing  virtue  from  everything — all  these  are  wanted. 
The  lesson  is  worth  learning,  lest  we  should  wound  that 
most  tender  Love,  and  lest  we  should  impoverish  and 
hurt  ourselves.  Do  not  complain  of  your  thirsty  lips  till 
you  are  sure  that  you  have  emptied  the  cup  of  salvation 
which  God  gives. 

One  more  element  of  this  Requital  of  God  has  still  to 
be  named — the  thankful  recognition  of  Him  in  all  our 
feasting, — "  call  on  the  name  ot  the  Lord."  Without  this, 
the  preceding  precept  would  be  a  piece  of  piure  selfish 
Epicureanism — and  without  this  it  would  be  impossible. 
Only  he  who  enjoys  life  in  God  enjoys  it  worthily.  Only 
he  who  enjoys  life  in  God  enjoys  it  at  all.  This  is  the  true 
infusion  which  gives  sweetness  to  whatever  of  bitter,  and 
more  of  sweetness  to  whatever  of  sweet,  the  cup  may  con- 


TAKIN(;  FROM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD,   14^ 

tain,  when  the  name  of  the  Lord  is  pronounced  above  it 
The  Jewish  father  at  the  Passover  feast  solemnly  lifte« 
the  wine-cup  above  his  head,  and  drank  with  thanksgiving. 
The  meal  became  a  sacrament.  So  here  the  word  ren- 
dered "  take  "  might  be  translated  "  raise,"  and  we  may 
be  intended  to  have  the  picture  as  emblematical  of  oui 
consecration  of  all  our  blessings  by  a  like  offering  of  them 
before  God,  and  a  like  invoking  of  the  Giver. 

Christ  has  given  us  not  only  the  ritual  of  an  ordinance, 
but  the  pattern  for  our  lives,  when  He  took  the  cup  and 
gave  thanks.  So  common  joys  become  sacraments,  en- 
joyment becomes  worship,  and  the  cup  which  holds  the 
bitter  or  the  sweet  skilfully  mingled  for  our  lives  be- 
comes the  cup  of  blessing  and  salvation  drank  in  ^eme^^ 
brance  of  Him.  If  we  carried  that  spirit  with  us  into  all 
our  small  duties,  sorrows,  and  gladnesses,  how  different 
they  would  all  seem !  We  should  then  drink  for  strength, 
not  for  drunkenness.  We  should  not  then  find  that  God's 
gifts  hid  Him  from  us.  We  should  neither  leave  any 
of  them  imused  nor  so  greedily  grasp  them  that  we  let  His 
hand  go.  Nothing  would  be  too  great  for  us  to  attempt, 
nothing  too  small  for  us  to  put  our  strength  into.  There 
would  be  no  discord  between  earthly  gladness  and  heavenly 
desires,  nor  any  repugnance  at  what  He  put  to  our  lips. 
We  should  drink  of  the  cup  of  His  benefits,  and  all  would 
be  sweet — until  we  drew  nearer  and  slaked  our  thirst  at 
the  river  of  His  pleasures  and  the  Fountain-head  itself. 

One  more  word.  There  is  an  old  legend  of  an  en- 
chanted cup  filled  with  poison,  and  put  treacherously  into 
a  king's  hand.  He  signed  the  sign  of  the  cross  and 
named  the  name  of  God  over  it — and  it  shivered  in  his 
grasp.  Do  you  take  this  name  of  the  Lord  as  a  test 
Name  Him  over  many  a  cup  which  you  are  eager  to 


ISO  TAKING  FROM  GOD  THE  BEST  GIVING  TO  GOD. 

drink  of,  and  the  glittering  fragments  will  lie  at  your  feet, 
and  the  poison  be  spilled  on  the  ground.  What  you  can- 
not lift  before  His  pure  eyes  and  think  of  Him  while  you 
enjoy,  is  not  for  you.  Friendships,  schemes,  plans,  am- 
bitions, amusements,  speculations,  studies,  loves,  busi- 
nesses— can  you  call  on  the  name  of  the  Lord  while  you 
put  these  cups  to  your  lips  ?  If  not,  fling  them  behind 
you — for  they  are  full  of  poison  which,  for  all  its  sugared 
sweetness,  at  the  last  will  bite  like  a  serpent  and  sting 
like  an  adder. 


XVIL 

SILENCE  TO  GOD. 


Psalm  lxii.  i,  5. 

Tndy  my  soul  waitcth  upon  God.  ...  My  soul,  wait  tkou  only 
upon  God. 

WE  have  here  two  corresponding  clauses,  each  begin- 
ning a  section  of  the  psalm.  They  resemble  each 
other  even  more  closely  than  appears  from  the  English 
version,  for  the  "  truly  "  of  the  first,  and  the  "  only  "  of 
the  second  clause,  are  the  same  word ;  and  in  each  case 
it  stands  in  the  same  place,  namely,  at  the  beginning. 
So,  word  for  word,  the  two  answer  to  each  other.  The 
difference  is,  that  the  one  expresses  the  Psalmist's  patient 
stillness  of  submission,  and  the  other  is  his  self-encourage- 
ment to  that  very  attitude  and  disposition  which  he  has 
just  professed  to  be  his.  In  the  one  he  speaks  of,  in  the 
other  to,  his  souL  He  stirs  himself  up  to  renew  and 
continue  the  faith  and  resignation  which  he  has,  and  so 
he  sets  before  us  both  the  temper  which  we  should  bear, 
and  the  effort  which  we  should  make  to  prolong  and 
deepen  it,  if  it  be  ours.  Let  us  look  at  these  two  points 
then — the  expression  of  waiting,  and  the  self-exhortation 
to  waiting. 

"  Truly  my  soul  waiteth  upon  God."    It  is  difficult  to 


iSt  SILENCB  TO  GOD. 

•ay  iHiether  the  opening  word  is  better  rendered  **  truly," 
as  here,  or  "  only,"  as  in  the  other  clause.  Either  mean- 
ing is  allowable  and  appropriate.  If,  with  our  version,  we 
adopt  the  former,  we  may  compare  with  this  text  the 
opening  of  another  psalm  (Ixxiii.),  **  Truly  God  is  good  to 
Israel,"  and  there,  as  here,  we  may  see  in  that  vehement 
affirmation,  a  trace  of  the  struggle  through  which  it  had 
been  won.  The  Psalmist  bursts  into  song  with  a  word, 
which  tells  us  plainly  enough  how  much  had  to  be  quieted 
in  him  before  he  came  to  that  quiet  waiting,  just  as  in 
the  other  psalm  he  pours  out  first  the  glad,  firm  certainty 
which  he  had  reached,  and  then  recounts  the  weary  seas 
of  doubt  and  bewilderment  through  which  he  had  waded 
to  reach  it.  That  one  word  is  the  record  of  conflict  and 
the  trophy  of  victory,  the  sign  of  the  blessed  effect  of 
effort  and  struggle  in  a  truth  more  firmly  held,  and  in  a 
submission  more  perfectly  practised.  It  is  as  if  he  had 
said.  Yes  !  in  spite  of  all  its  waywardness  and  fears,  and 
self-willed  struggles,  my  soul  waits  upon  God.  I  have 
overcome  these,  and  now  there  is  peace  within. 

It  is  to  be  further  observed  that  literally  the  words  run, 
''  My  soul  is  silence  unto  God."  That  forcible  form  of 
expression  describes  the  completeness  of  the  Psalmist's 
unmurmuring  submission  and  quiet  faith.  His  whole 
being  is  one  great  stillness,  broken  by  no  clamorous 
passions ;  by  no  loud-voiced  desires ;  by  no  remonstrating 
reluctance.  There  is  a  similar  phrase  in  another  psalm 
(cix,  4),  which  may  help  to  illustrate  this  :  "  For  my  love 
they  are  my  adversaries,  but  I  am  prayer " — his  soul  is 
all  one  supplication.  The  enemies'  wrath  awakens  no 
flush  of  passion  on  his  cheek,  or  ripple  of  vengeance  in 
his  heart  He  meets  it  all  with  prayer.  Wrapped  in 
devotion  and  heedless  of  their  rage,  he  is  like  Stephen, 


SILENCE  TO  GOD.  153 

when  he  kneeled  down  among  his  yelling  murderers,  and 
cried  with  a  loud  voice,  **  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their 
charge."  So  here  we  have  the  strongest  expression  of 
the  perfect  consent  of  the  whole  inward  nature  in  sub- 
mission and  quietness  of  confidence  before  God 

That  silence  is  first  a  silence  of  the  will.  The  plain 
meaning  of  this  phrase  is,  resignation ;  and  resignation  is 
just  a  silent  will.  Before  the  throne  of  the  Great  King, 
His  servants  are  to  stand  like  those  long  rows  of  attend- 
ants we  see  on  the  walls  of  eastern  temples,  silent  with 
folded  arms,  straining  their  ears  to  hear,  and  bracing 
their  muscles  to  execute  his  whispered  commands,  or 
even  his  gesture  and  his  glance.  A  man's  will  should  be 
an  echo,  not  a  voice  ;  the  echo  of  God,  not  the  voice  of 
self.  It  should  be  silent,  as  some  sweet  instrument  is 
silent  till  the  owner's  hand  touches  the  keys.  Like 
the  boy-prophet  in  the  hush  of  the  sanctuary,  below  the 
quivering  light  of  the  dying  lamps,  we  should  wait  till  the 
awful  voice  calls,  and  then,  "  Speak,  Lord,  for  Thy 
servant  heareth."  Do  not  let  the  loud  utterances  of  your 
own  r/ills  anticipate,  nor  drown,  the  still,  small  voice  in 
which  God  speaks.  Bridle  impatience  till  He  does.  If 
you  cannot  hear  His  whisper,  wait  till  you  do.  Take 
care  of  running  before  you  are  sent  Keep  your  wills  in 
equipoise,  till  God's  hand  gives  the  impulse  and  direction. 

Such  a  silent  will  is  a  strong  will.  It  is  no  feeble 
passiveness,  no  dead  indifference,  no  impossible  abne- 
gation that  God  requires,  when  He  requires  us  to  put  our 
wills  in  accord  with  His,  They  are  not  slain,  but  vivified 
by  such  surrender ;  and  the  true  secret  of  strength  lies  in 
submission.  The  secret  of  blessedness  is  there,  too,  for 
our  sorrow  comes  because  there  is  discord  between  our 
rtHj^iTngtftnf"^  upH  QUI  willSy  ftod  the  mcuuTe  in  wfaicii 


154  SILENCE  TO  GOD. 

these  are  in  harmony  with  God  is  the  measure  in  whid 
we  shall  feel  that  all  things  are  blessings  to  be  received 
with  thanksgiving.  But  if  we  will  take  our  own  way,  and 
let  our  own  wills  speak  before  God  speaks,  or  otherwise 
than  God  speaks,  nothing  can  come  of  that  but  what 
always  has  come  of  it — ^blunders,  sins,  misery,  and  mani- 
fold ruin. 

We  must  keep  our  hearts  silent  too.  The  sweet  voices 
of  pleading  afifections,  the  loud  cry  of  desires  and  instincts 
that  roar  for  their  food  like  beasts  of  prey,  the  querulous 
complaints  of  disappointed  hopes,  the  groans  and  sobs  of 
black-robed  sorrows,  the  loud  hubbub  and  Babel,  like 
the  noise  of  a  great  city,  that  every  man  carries  within, 
must  be  stifled  and  coerced  into  silence.  We  have  to 
take  the  animal  in  us  by  the  throat,  and  sternly  say,  Lie 
down  there  and  be  quiet  We  have  to  silence  tastes  and 
inclinations.  We  have  to  stop  our  ears  to  the  noises 
around,  however  sweet  the  songs,  and  to  close  many  an 
avenue  through  which  the  world's  music  might  steal  in. 
He  cannot  say,  "My  soul  is  silent  imto  God,"  whose 
whole  being  is  buzzing  with  vanities  and  noisy  with  the 
din  of  the  market-place.  Unless  we  have  something,  at 
least,  of  that  great  stillness,  our  hearts  will  have  no  peace, 
and  our  religion  no  reality. 

There  must  be  the  silence  of  the  mind,  as  well  as  of 
the  heart  and  will.  We  must  not  have  our  thoughts  ever 
occupied  with  other  things,  but  must  cultivate  the  habit 
of  detaching  them  from  earth,  and  keeping  our  minds 
still  before  God,  that  He  may  pour  His  light  into  them. 
Surely  if  ever  any  generation  needed  the  preaching — Be 
still,  and  let  God  speak — we  need  it.  Even  religious 
men  are  so  busy  with  spreading  or  defending  Christianity, 
that  they  have  little  time,  and  many  of  them  less  indiiub- 


SILENCE  TO  GOD.  155 

tion  for  quiet  meditation  and  still  communion  with  God. 
NewsTi^^ers,  and  books,  and  practical  philanthropy,  and 
ChruskiAn  effort,  and  business,  and  amusement,  so  crowd 
into  Ofc.  lives  now,  that  it  needs  some  resolution  and 
iome  planning  to  get  a  clear  space  where  we  can  be 
quiet,  and  look  at  God. 

But  the  old  law  for  a  noble  and  devout  life  is  not 
altered  by  reason  of  any  new  circumstances.  It  still  re- 
mains true  that  a  mind  silently  waiting  before  God  is  the 
condition  without  which  such  a  life  is  impossible.  As  the 
lowers  follow  the  sun,  and  silently  hold  up  their  petals 
to  be  tinted  and  enlarged  by  his  shining,  so  must  we,  if 
we  would  know  the  joy  of  God,  hold  our  souls,  wills, 
hearts,  and  minds  still  before  Him,  whose  voice  com- 
mands, whose  love  warms,  whose  truth  makes  fair  our 
whole  being.  God  speaks  for  the  most  part  in  such  silence 
only.  If  the  soul  be  full  of  tumult  and  jangling  noises. 
His  voice  is  little  likely  to  be  heard.  As  in  some  kinds  of 
deafness,  a  perpetual  noise  in  the  head  prevents  hearing 
any  other  sounds,  the  rush  of  our  own  fevered  blood,  and 
the  throbbing  of  our  own  nerves,  hinder  our  catching  His 
tones.  It  is  the  calm  lake  which  mirrors  the  sun,  the 
least  catspaw  wrinkling  the  surface  wipes  out  all  the  re- 
flected glories  of  the  heavens.  If  we  would  mirror  God 
our  souls  must  be  calm.  If  we  would  hear  God  our  souls 
must  be  silence. 

Alas  !  how  far  from  this  is  our  daily  life  !  Who  among 
us  dare  to  take  these  words  as  the  expression  of  our  own 
experience  ?  Is  not  the  troubl'ed  sea  which  cannot  rest, 
whose  waters  cast  up  mire  and  dirt,  a  truer  emblem  of  our 
restless,  labouring  souls  than  the  calm  lake?  Put  your 
own  selves  by  the  side  of  this  Psalmist,  and  honestly 
measure  the  contrast     It  is  like  the  difiSerence  between 


156  SILENCE  TO  GOD. 

some  crowded  market-place  all  full  of  noisy  traffickers, 
ringing  with  shouts,  blazing  in  sunshine,  and  the  interioi 
of  the  quiet  cathedral  that  looks  down  on  it  all,  where 
are  coolness  and  subdued  light,  and  silence  and  solitude. 
"  Come,  My  people,  enter  thou  into  thy  chambers,  and 
shut  thy  doors  about  thee."  **  Commune  with  your  own 
heart  and  be  still/'  **  In  quietness  and  confidence  shall 
be  your  strength." 

This  man's  profession  of  utter  resignation  is  perhaps  too 
high  for  us;  but  we  can  make  his  sdf-cxhortation  our 
own.  "  My  soul !  wait  thou  only  upon  God."  Perfect  as 
he  ventures  to  declare  his  silence  towards  God,  he  yet 
feels  that  he  has  to  stir  himself  up  to  the  effort  which  is 
needed  to  preserve  it  in  its  purity.  Just  because  he  can 
say,  "  My  soul  waits,"  therefore  he  bids  his  soul  wait 

I  need  not  dwell  upon  that  self-stimulating  as  involving 
the  great  mystery  of  our  personality,  whereby  a  man  ex- 
alts himself  above  himself,  and  controls,  and  guides,  and 
speaks  to  his  soul.  But  a  few  words  may  be  given  to 
that  thought  illustrated  here,  of  the  necessity  for  conscious 
effort  and  self-encouragement,  in  order  to  the  preservation 
of  the  highest  religious  emotion. 

We  are  sometimes  apt  to  forget  that  no  holy  thoughts 
or  feelings  are  in  their  own  nature  permanent,  and  the 
illusion  that  they  are,  often  tends  to  accelerate  their  fading. 
It  is  no  wonder  if  we  in  our  selectest  hours  of  "  high 
communion  with  the  living  God  "  should  feel  as  if  that 
lofty  experience  would  last  by  virtue  of  its  own  sweetness, 
and  need  no  effort  of  ours  to  retain  it  But  it  is  not  so. 
All  emotion  tends  to  exhaustion,  as  surely  as  a  pendulum 
to  rest,  or  as  an  Eastern  torrent  to  dry  up.  All  our  flamei 
bum  to  their  extmction.  There  is  but  one  fire  that  biases 
and  is  not  consumed.    Action  is  the  destroctiQii  of  tisne. 


SILENCE  TO  GOD.  i57 

Life  reaches  its  term  in  death.  Joy  and  sorrow,  and  hopt 
and  fear,  cannot  be  continuous.  They  must  needs  weai 
themselves  out  and  fade  into  a  gray  uniformity  like  moun- 
tain summ^'ts  when  the  sun  has  left  them. 

Our  religious  experience  too  will  have  its  tides,  and 
even  those  high  and  pure  emotions  and  dispositions  that 
bind  us  to  God  can  only  be  preserved  by  continual  effort. 
Their  existence  is  no  guarantee  of  their  permanence, 
rather  is  it  a  guarantee  of  their  transitoriness,  unless  we 
earnestly  stir  up  ourselves  to  their  renewal.  Like  the  emo- 
tions kindled  by  lower  objects,  they  perish  while  they 
glow,  and  there  must  be  a  continual  recurrence  to  the 
one  source  of  light  and  heat  if  the  brilliancy  is  to  be  pre- 
served. 

Nor  is  it  only  from  within  that  their  continuance  is 
menaced.  Outward  forces  are  sure  to  tell  upon  them. 
The  constant  wash  of  the  sea  of  life  undermines  the  cliffs 
and  wastes  the  coasts.  The  tear  and  wear  of  external 
occupations  is  ever  acting  upon  our  religious  life.  Travel- 
lers tell  us  that  the  constant  rubbing  of  the  sand  on 
Egyptian  hieroglyphs  removes  every  trace  of  colour,  and 
even  effaces  the  deep-cut  characters  from  basalt  rocks. 
So  the  unceasing  attrition  of  multitudinous  trifles  will  take 
all  the  bloom  off  your  religion,  and  efface  the  name  of 
the  King  cut  on  the  tables  of  your  hearts,  if  you  do  not 
counteract  them  by  constant,  earnest  effort.  Our  devo- 
tion, our  faith,  our  love  is  only  preserved  by  being  con- 
stantly renewed. 

That  vigorous  effort  is  expressed  here  by  the  very  form 
of  the  phrase.  The  same  word  which  began  the  first 
clause  begins  the  second  also.  As  in  the  former  it  re- 
presented for  us,  with  an  emphatic  "  Truly,"  the  struggle 
through  which  the  Psalmist  had  reached  the  height  of  his 


f5S  SILENCE  TO  GOD 

blessed  experience,  so  here  it  represents  in  like  mannei 
the  earnestness  of  the  self-exhortation  which  he  addresses 
to  himself.  He  calls  forth  all  his  powers  to  the  conflict, 
which  is  needed  even  by  the  man  who  has  attained  to 
that  height  of  communion,  if  he  would  remain  where  he 
has  climbed.  And  for  us,  brethren,  who  shrink  from 
taking  these  former  words  upon  our  lips,  how  much 
greater  the  need  to  use  our  most  strenuous  efforts  to  quiet 
our  souls.  If  the  summit  reached  can  only  be  held  by 
earnest  endeavom*,  how  much  more  is  needed  to  struggle 
up  from  the  valleys  below. 

The  silence  of  the  soul  before  God  is  no  mere  passive- 
nesi.  It  requires  the  intensest  energy  of  all  our  being  to 
keep  all  our  being  still  and  waiting  upon  Him.  So  put 
all  your  strength  into  the  task,  and  be  sure  that  your  soul 
is  never  so  intensely  alive  as  when  in  deepest  abnegation 
it  waits  hushed  before  God. 

Trust  no  past  emotions.  Do  not  wonder  if  they  should 
fkde  even  when  they  are  brightest.  Do  not  let  their 
evanescence  tempt  you  to  doubt  their  reality.  But  always 
when  our  hearts  are  fullest  of  His  love,  and  our  spirits 
stilled  with  the  sweetest  sense  of  His  solemn  presence, 
itir  yourselves  up  to  keep  firm  hold  of  the  else  passing 
gleam,  and  in  your  consciousness  let  these  two  words  live 
in  perpetual  alternation :  "  Truly  my  soul  waiteth  upon 
God.    My  soul !  wait  thou  only  upon  God." 


xvia 

THE  VALLEY  OF  ACHOR. 


HosEA  ii.  1$. 
I  will  give  her .  .  .the  valley  of  Achor  for  a  door  of  hope. 

'T'^HE  prophet  Hosea  is  remarkable  for  the  frequent  use 
-'-  which  he  makes  of  events  in  the  former  history  of  his 
people.  Their  past  seems  to  him  a  mirror  in  which  they 
may  read  their  future.  He  believes  that  "  which  is  to  be 
hath  already  been,"  the  great  principles  of  the  Divine 
government  living  on  through  all  the  ages,  and  issuing  in 
similar  acts  when  the  circumstances  are  similar.  So  he 
foretells  that  there  will  yet  be  once  more  a  captivity  and 
a  bondage,  that  the  old  story  of  the  wilderness  will  be 
repeated  once  more.  In  that  wilderness  God  will  speak 
to  the  heart  of  Israel.  Its  barrenness  shall  be  changed 
into  the  fniitfiilness  of  vineyards,  where  the  purpling  clus- 
ters hang  ripe  for  the  thirsty  travellers.  And  not  only 
will  the  sorrows  that  He  sends  thus  become  sources  of 
refreshment,  but  the  gloomy  gorge  through  which  they 
journey — the  valley  of  Achor — will  be  a  door  of  hope. 

One  word  is  eiiough  to  explain  the  allusion.  You  re- 
member that  after  the  capture  of  Jericho  by  Joshua,  the 
people  were  baffled  in  their  first  attempt  to  press  through 
the  narrow  defile  that  led  from  the  plain  of  Jordan  to  the 


i6o  THE  VALLHY  OF  ACHOR. 

highlands  of  Canaan.  Their  defeat  was  caused  by  the  covet- 
ousness  of  Achan,  who  for  the  sake  of  some  miserable 
spoil  which  he  found  in  a  tent,  broke  God's  laws,  and 
drew  down  shame  on  Israel's  ranks.  When  the  swift,  ter- 
rible punishment  on  him  had  purged  the  camp,  victory 
again  followed  their  assault,  and,  Achan  Ijdng  stiff  and 
stark  below  his  cairn,  they  pressed  on  up  the  glen  to  their 
task  of  conquest  The  rugged  valley,  where  that  defeat 
and  that  sharp  act  of  justice  took  place,  was  named  in 
memory  thereof,  the  valley  of  Achor^  that  is,  trouble;  and 
our  prophet's  promise  is  that  as  then,  so  for  all  future 
ages,  the  complicity  of  God's  people  with  an  evil  world 
will  work  weakness  and  defeat,  but  that,  if  they  will  be 
taught  by  their  trouble  and  will  purge  themselves  of  the 
accursed  thing,  then  the  disasters  will  make  a  way  for  hope 
to  come  to  them  again.  The  figure  which  conveys  this  is 
very  expressive.  The  narrow  gorge  stretches  before  us, 
with  its  dark  overhanging  cliffs  that  almost  shut  out  the 
sky ;  the  path  is  rough  and  set  with  sharp  pebbles ;  it  is 
narrow,  winding,  steep ;  often  it  seems  to  be  baired  by 
some  huge  rock  that  juts  across  it,  and  there  is  barely 
room  for  the  broken  ledge  yielding  slippery  footing  be- 
tween the  beetling  crag  above  and  the  steep  slope  be- 
neath that  dips  so  quickly  to  the  black  torrent  below. 
All  is  gloomy,  damp,  hard ;  and  if  we  look  upwards  the 
glen  becomes  more  savage  as  it  rises,  and  armed  foes 
hold  the  very  throat  of  the  pass.  But,  however  long, 
however  barren,  however  rugged,  however  black,  how- 
ever trackless,  we  may  see  if  we  will,  a  bright  form  de- 
scending the  rocky  way  with  radiant  eyes  and  calm  lips, 
God's  messenger,  Hope; — and  the  rough  rocks  are  like  the 
doorway  through  which  she  comes  near  to  us  in  our  weary 
itniggle.     For  us  all,  dear  friends,  it  is  tme.     In  all  our 


THE  VALLEY  OF  ACHOR.  I«l 

difficulties  and  sorrows,  be  they  great  or  small ;  in  our 
business  perplexities ;  in  the  losses  that  rob  our  homes  of 
their  light ;  in  the  petty  annoyances  that  diffuse  their  irri- 
tation through  so  much  of  our  days, — it  is  within  our 
power  to  turn  them  all  into  occasions  for  a  firmer  grasp 
of  God,  and  so  to  make  them  openings  by  which  a  hap- 
pier hope  may  flow  into  our  souls. 

But  the  promise,  like  all  God's  promises,  has  its  well- 
defined  conditions.  Achan  has  to  be  killed  and  put  safe 
out  of  the  way  first,  or  no  shining  Hope  will  stand  out 
against  the  black  walls  of  the  defile.  The  tastes  which 
knit  us  to  the  perishable  world,  the  yearnings  for  Baby- 
lonish garments  and  wedges  of  gold,  must  be  coerced  and 
subdued.  Swift,  sharp,  unrelenting  justice  must  be  done 
on  the  lust  of  the  flesh,  and  the  lust  of  the  eye,  and  tlie 
pride  of  life,  if  our  trials  are  ever  to  become  doors  oj 
hope.  There  is  no  natural  tendency  in  the  mere  fact  of 
sorrow  and  pain  to  make  God's  love  more  discernible,  or 
to  make  our  hope  any  firmer.  All  depends  on  how  we 
use  the  trial,  or  as  I  say — first  stone  Achan  and  then 
hope ! 

So^  the  trouble  which  detaches  us  from  earth  gives  us  new 
hope.  Sometimes  the  effect  of  our  sorrows,  and  annoy- 
ances, and  diflftculties,  is  to  rivet  us  more  firmly  to  earth. 
The  eye  has  a  curious  power,  which  they  call  persistence 
of  vision,  of  retaining  the  impression  made  upon  it,  and 
therefore  of  seeming  to  see  the  object  for  a  definite  time 
after  it  has  really  been  withdrawn.  If  you  whirl  a  bit  of 
blazing  stick  round,  you  will  see  a  circle  of  fire  though 
there  is  only  a  point  moving  rapidly  in  the  circle.  The 
eye  has  its  memory  hke  the  soul.  And  the  soul  has 
its  power  of  persistence  like  the  eye,  and  that  power 
is  sometimes  kindled  into   activity  by  the  fact  of  loss 


lis  THE  VALLEY  OF  ACHOR. 

We  often  see  our  departed  joys,  and  gaze  upon  them  aU 
the  more  eagerly  for  their  departure.  The  loss  of  dear 
ones  should  stamp  their  image  on  our  hearts,  and  set  it  as 
*n  a  golden  glory.  But  it  sometimes  does  more  than  that, 
it  sometimes  makes  us  put  the  present  with  its  duties  im- 
patiently away  from  us.  Vain  regret,  absorbed  brooding 
over  what  is  gone,  a  sorrow  kept  gaping  long  after  it 
should  have  been  healed,  like  a  grave-mound  off  which 
desperate  love  has  pulled  turf  and  flowers,  in  the  vain  at- 
tempt  to  clasp  the  cold  hand  below — ^in  a  word,  the  trouble 
that  does  not  withdraw  us  from  the  present  will  never 
be  a  door  of  Hope,  but  rather  a  grim  gate  for  despair  to 
come  in  at. 

The  trouble  which  km'fs  us  to  God  gives  us  new  hope. 
That  bright  form  which  comes  down  the  narrow  valley  is 
His  messenger  and  herald — sent  before  His  face.  All  the 
light  of  hope  is  the  reflection  on  our  hearts  of  the  light  oi 
God.  Her  silver  beams,  which  shed  quietness  over  the 
darkness  of  earth,  come  only  from  that  great  Sun.  If 
our  Hope  is  to  grow  out  of  our  sorrow,  it  must  be  because 
our  sorrow  drives  us  to  God.  It  is  only  when  we  by  faith 
stand  in  His  grace,  and  live  in  the  conscious  fellowship 
of  peace  with  Him,  that  we  rejoice  in  hope.  If  we  would 
see  Hope  drawing  near  to  us,  we  must  fix  our  eyes  not  on 
Jericho  that  lies  behind  among  its  palm-trees,  though  it 
has  memories  of  conquests,  and  attractions  of  fertility  and 
repose,  nor  on  the  corpse  that  lies  below  that  pile  of 
stones,  nor  on  the  narrow  way  and  the  strong  enemy  in 
front  there ;  but  higher  up,  on  the  blue  sky  that  spreads 
peaceful  above  the  highest  summits  of  the  pass,  and  from 
the  heaven  we  shall  see  the  angel  coming  to  us.  Sorrow 
forsakes  its  own  nature,  and  leads  in  its  own  opposite, 
when  sorrow  helps  us  to  see  (jod.     It  clears  away  the 


THE  VALLEY  OF  ACIIOR.  tf] 

Ihick  trees,  and  lets  the  sunli<^]u  into  the  forest  shades, 
and  then  in  time  corn  will  grow.  Hope  is  but  the 
brightness  that  goes  before  God's  face,  and  if  we  would 
see  it  we  must  look  at  Him. 

The  trouble  which  7ve  bear  tightly  with  God's  help^ 
gives  new  hope.  If  we  have  made  our  sorrow  an  occasion 
for  learning,  by  living  experience,  somewhat  more  of  His 
exquisitely  varied  and  ever  ready  power  to  aid  and  bless, 
then  it  will  teach  us  firmer  confidence  in  these  inexhaust- 
ible resources  which  we  have  thus  once  more  proved. 
"  Tribulation  worketh  patience,  and  patience  experience, 
and  experience  hope."  That  is  the  order.  You  cannot 
put  patience  and  experience  into  a  parenthesis,  and 
omitting  them,  bring  hope  out  of  tribulation.  But  if  in 
my  sorrow  I  have  been  able  to  keep  quiet  because  I  have 
had  hold  of  God's  hand,  and  if  in  that  unstruggling  sub- 
mission I  have  found  that  from  His  hand  I  have  been 
upheld,  and  had  strength  above  mine  o^\^l  infused  into 
me,  then  my  memory  will  give  the  threads  with  which 
Hope  weaves  her  bright  web.  1  build  upon  two  things — 
God's  unchangeableness,  and  His  help  already  received ; 
and  upon  these  strong  foundations  I  may  wisely  and  safely 
rear  a  palace  of  Hope,  which  shall  never  prove  a  castle  in 
the  air.  The  past,  when  it  is  God's  past,  is  the  surest 
pledge  for  the  future.  Because  He  has  been  with  us  in 
six  troubles,  therefore  we  may  be  sure  that  in  seven  He  will 
not  forsake  us.  I  said  that  the  light  of  hope  was  the 
brightness  from  the  face  of  God.  I  may  say  again,  that 
the  light  of  hope  which  fills  our  sky  is  like  that  which,  on 
happy  summer  nights,  lives  till  morning  in  the  calm  west, 
and  with  its  colourless,  tranquil  beauty,  tells  of  a  yester- 
day of  unclouded  splendour,  and  prophesies  a  to-raorrow 
yet  more  abundant.    The  glow  from  a  sun  that  is  set,  the 


g||  THE  VALLEY  OF  ACHOR. 

experience  of  past  deliverances,  is  the  truest  light  of  hope 
to  light  our  way  through  the  night  of  life. 

One  of  the  psalms  gives  us,  in  different  form,  a 
metaphor  and  a  promise  substantially  the  same  as  that  of 
this  text.  '*  Blessed  are  the  men  who,  passing  through 
the  valley  of  weeping,  make  it  a  well."  They  gather  their 
tears,  as  it  were,  into  the  cisterns  by  the  wayside,  and 
draw  refreshment  and  strength  from  their  very  sorrows. 
And  then,  when  thus  we  in  our  wise  husbandry  have  irri- 
gated the  soil  with  the  gathered  results  of  our  sorrows, 
the  heavens  bend  over  us,  and  weep  their  gracious  tears, 
and  "  the  rain  also  covereth  it  with  blessings."  No 
chastisement  for  the  present  seemeth  to  be  joyous,  but 
grievous;  nevertheless,  afterward  it  yieldeth  the  peaceable 
fruit  of  righteousness. 

Then,  dear  friends,  let  us  set  ourselves  with  our  loins 
girt  to  the  road.  Never  mind  how  hard  it  may  be  to 
climb.  The  slope  of  the  valley  of  trouble  is  ever  upwards. 
Never  mind  how  dark  the  shadow  of  death  which  stretches 
athwart  it  is.  If  there  were  no  sun  there  would  be  no 
shadow;  presently  the  sun  will  be  right  overhead,  and 
there  will  be  no  shadow  then.  Never  mind  how  black  it 
may  look  ahead,  or  how  frowning  the  rocks.  From 
between  their  narrowest  gorge  you  may  see,  if  you  will, 
the  guide  whom  God  has  sent  you,  and  that  Angel  of  Hope 
will  light  up  all  the  darkness,  and  will  only  fade  away 
when  she  is  lost  in  the  sevenfold  brightness  of  that  upper 
land,  whereof  our  "God  Himself  is  Sun  and  Moon" — the 
true  Canaan,  to  whose  everlasting  mountains  the  steep 
way  of  life  has  climbed  at  last  through  valleys  of  troablev 
and  of  weeping,  and  of  the  shadow  of  death. 


Alexander 
Maclaren»  D.D. 

tShe  Man  and 
His   Mes>sage 

By   JOHN    C.    CARLILE 


'T^HIS  is  a  sympathic  character-study  of  Dr. 
•*•  Maclaren  written  by  a  biographer  who  is  noted 
for  the  excellent  choice  of  his  subjects  and  the  en- 
thusiastic appreciation  which  he  brings  to  his  work, 
and  which,  also,  he  imparts  to  the  reader.  Read  in 
connection  with  his  biography,  the  sermons  of  the 
great  preacher  of  Manchester  have  an  added  force 
of  personality,  and  even  without  the  sermons,  such  a 
picture  of  a  good  man  caiTies  a  powerful  message. 

SmaU  8vo,  Cloth.     Price,  $1.00 
By  Mail,  $1.08 


FUNK    ^    WAGNALLS    COMPANY 

Publishers.  30  Lafayette  Place.  NEW  YORK 


'*J>r.  McLclaren  is  the  foretnost  semuynizer  in 
the  world.  >'—Wl.  ».  lHacArtlmr,  I>.I>.,  1L.I^.I>. 


Sermons  by 

Alexander 
Maclaren,  D.D. 


■pvR.  MACLAREN  is  considered  to  be  the  most 
eminent  pulpit  orator  in  England,  and  as  to 
the  character  of  his  preaching  so  eminent  an  au- 
thority as  Rev.  Hugh  Price  Hughes  declares  him  to 
be  "  supreme  as  the  highest  exponent  from  the  pulpit 
of  the  spoken  word." 

"Dr.  Maclaren  is  a  prince  of  expositors,  and  his  expositioiifl 
are  as  wholesome  as  they  are  able,  and  as  interesting  as  they  are 
instructive  and  edifying.  Every  paragraph  is  luminous  with  vivid 
expressions."  —  The  London  Qtiarterly  Heview. 

"Dr.  Maclaren's  charming  pages  furnish  a  most  fruitful  field  of 
study,  alike  for  those  whose  chief  aim  is  personal  edification,  and 
for  those  who  are  in  quest  of  suggestions  in  the  mind  of  ministerial 
service." — United  Presbyterian  Magazine. 

"  Dr.  Maclaren  is  the  prince  of  living  preachers;  and  in  old  age, 
he  brings  forth  as  rich  and  ripe  as  any  he  gave  us  in  his  prime." — 
Sunday-School  Chronicle. 

"Preachers  will  find  in  it  a  mme  of  wealth,  and  to  Christiang 
of  all  kinds  it  may  serve  as  a  manual  of  devotion."— CfcW»tiaw 
World. 


10  Volumes,  Clotb.     Price,  $1.50  per 
Volume,  Post'paid 


'*  To  praise  his  sermoufi  is   lilce  aiipJauding 
a  si«»i«ef."— Arthur  '1'.  Pii^rxon,  1>.0. 


THE  VOLUMES  AND  COMMENDATIONS 

VOLUME     1 

Triumphant  Certainties 

''  Marked  by  much  freehuess  of  thought,  originality  of  expres- 
sion, and  spiritual  power." — Record. 

"Clear,  pointed,  impressive.'"— iWawcfcester  Guardian. 

"In  ihie  volume  Dr.  Maclaren  is  at  his  malurest  and  best." — 
Jiaptist  Matjazine. 

"Marked  by  spiritual  insight  the  keenest  and  most  profound." 
— Primitive  Methodist. 

"Intellectually  clear,  emotionally  warm  and  eloquent,  and  full 
of  the  savour  of  the  Gospel."— JTndepeMden*. 

"These,  like  all  Dr.  Maclaren"s  sermons,  are  distinctly  exposi- 
tory and  that  has  been  one  of  the  most  priceless  benefits  of  his  long 
ministry."—  Christian. 

"His  dscourscs  may  be  studied  by  preachers  as  admirable 
specimens  'f  what  a  sermon  ought  to  'be.'"  — North  British 
Daily  Ma  I. 

"At  lim3s  the  author  touches  the  summit  of  a  really  noble 
eloquence.  .  .  .  Will  be  prized  alike  by  plain  man  and  scholar."  — 
Aberdeen   /ree  Press. 

"  Many  readers  will  find  edification  and  inspiration  in  this 
volume."-  tethodist  Tintea. 


VOLUME     2 

Christ  in  the  Heart 

And  Other  Sermons 

"  Dr.  l.aclaren  is  at  his  best  in  this  volume."— Tlie  Christian. 
"  Seems  to  us  one  of  the  best  of  the  series."— l-Vecwta?*. 


"Dr.  Maclaren  is  the  chief  est  of  living  ser- 
nionizers.-'—^,  I^.  Cuyler,  I>.i>. 


THE  VOLUMES  AND  COMMENDATIONS 

VOLUME     3 

A  Year's  Ministry 

(First  Series) 

"Dr.  Maclaren  is  clear,  pointed,  impressive."— i»fancfe€«ecr 
Guardian. 


VOLUME    4 

A  Year's  Ministry 

(Second  Series) 

"Tens  of  thousands  will  welcome  his  fine,  forcible  utterances. 
He  is  a  man  of  an  ordinary  stature— eloquent,  thoughtful,  masterly." 
— Stvord  and  Trotvel. 

VOLUME     5 

Manchester  Sermons 

(First  Series) 

"  The  style  is  always  clear,  simple,  and  eflfective,  and  frequently 
it  rises  to  all  the  fervour  of  a  glowing  eloquence,  and  the  discourses 
as  a  whole  are  fitted  to  quicken  the  religious  thought  and  stimulate 
the  devout  feeling  of  a  congregation."— JV^oMco»i/oi'»n-i«t. 

VOLUME    6 

Manchester  Sermons 

(Second   Series) 

The  Spectator  characterizes  them  as  "vigorous  in  style,  full  of 
thought,  rich  ia  illustration,  and  in  an  unusual  degree  interesting." 


**It  is  scholarly,  honest,   artful,   and  sufirflres- 
tive."— I>a,ily  CUronicle. 


THE  VOLUMES  AND  COMMENDATIONS 

VOLUME     7 

Manchester  Sermons 

(Third  Series) 

"  Sermons  more  sober  and  yet  more  forcible,  and  with  a  certain 
wise  and  practical  spirituality  about  them,  it  would  not  be  easy  to 
find." — Spectator. 


VOLUME     8 

The  Secret  of  Power 

And  Other  Sermons 

"  Well  worth  reading,  and  from  them  all  may  with  advantage 
gather  hints  and  suggestions."— ^'tTo/iw  Hull." 

VOLUME    9 

Week-Day  Evening  Addresses 

Delivered  in  Manchester 

"  Every  sentence  tells.  The  teacher  preaches,  and  his  preach- 
ings touch  and  lift  all  that  is  best  in  us." — British  Quarterly 
Review. 


VOLUME     10 

The  Victor's   Crowns 

"Dr.  Maclaron  has  Ion;?  been  recognized  as  one  of  the  foremost 
preachers  in  thu  Eriiish  puljit."— G/a*»f/oTt»  Herald. 


THE  MOST  COMPLETE  AND   HELPFUL  CONCORDANCE  FOR 
MINISTERS  AND  BIBLE  STUDENTS 

The  Episcopal  Recorder,  Philadelphia:  "  It  is  unquestion- 
ably the  best  and  most  complete  work  of  the  kind  ever  published." 

Young's  Analytical 
Concordance  to  the  Bible 

Bv  ROBERT  YOUNG,  LL.D. 

Author  of  a  New  Literal  Translation  of  the  Hebrew  and  Greek  Scrip- 
tures, Concise  Critical  Comments  on  the  Same,  Etc.,  Etc. 

Seventh  edition,  thoroughly  re\'ised  and  contaming  8,000 
changes.  It  includes  311,000  references,  making  30,000  New  Testa- 
ment Readings.  It  gives  the  original  Hebrew  or  Greek  of  any  word 
in  the  English  Bible  with  the  literal  meaning  of  each,  together  with 
reliable  parallel  passages. 

SOME  SPECJAL  AND  EXCLUSIVE  MERITS 
Its   Analytical  Character.— It  gives  at  a  glance  the 
various  shades  of  meaning  of  related  words  represented  in  the 
English  by  one  word.    Arrangement  of  Proper  Names. 

— The  proper  names  of  all  persons  and  places,  unlike  most  Con- 
cordances, are  given  in  their  alphabetical  order  with  meanings. 
Dates  and  eras  of  all  persons  are  also  given,  so  that  they  may  be 
distinguished  from  others  of  the  same  name.  Useful  Features 
for  Students.— It  enables  every  student  to  be  his  own  comment- 
ator even  if  he  has  no  knowledge  of  the  Greek  or  Hebrew  languages. 
Especially  Helpful  Arrangement.— Every  word  is  given 
in  alphabetical  order,  and  arranged  under  its  Hebrew  or  Greek 
original,  with  the  literal  meaning  of  each  and  its  pronunciation. 
Valuable  Complementary  Articles. —  Helpful  supple- 
mental articles  add  value  to  this  Concordance.  The  Rev.  Thomas 
Nicol,  B.D.,  of  Edinburgh,  conti-ibutes  "J.  Sketch  of  Recent  Ex- 
plorations in  Bible  Lands,"''  outlining  the  results  of  recent  topo- 
graphical and  archeological  investigations  in  their  bearing  upon  Scrip- 
tures. There  are  also  71  instructive  "Hints  and  Helps  on  Bible  In- 
terpretation.''' 

New  York  Observer :  "  This  monumental  work  has  been  made 
as  complete  and  perfect  as  could  be  desired.  It  has  stood  the  test  of  the 
severest  criticism.  It  Is  adopted  to  the  wants  of  students  of  every  class. 
...  A  standard  book  of  reference. 

Uo,  1,108  pp.  Price,  Cloth,  $5:  Tan  Sheep,  $7.50:  HaJf  Morocco,  $9; 
Full  Morocco,  S12.  With  the  Denison  Patent  Thumb  Reference 
Index,  75  cents  extra.    Carriage  prepaid. 


FUNK  &,  WAGNALLS   COMPANY,  Pubs.,  NEW  YORK 


"I  have  no  hesitancy  in  8a}'lng  that  the  'I'ulplt  Commentary'  Is 
probably  the  best  Investment  tor  the  cost  which  ordinary  clergymen 
can  make  in  the  line  of  conuneuuiries."— CjJ.  Frederick  Wright, 
1).D.,  LL..D. 

THE    PULPIT 

COMMENTARY 

The  edition  is  printed  from  duplicate  plates  of  the  great  English 
work.  It  is  identical,  page  for  page,  with  the  English  edition  — con- 
taining every  word  of  the  original,  and  in  no  regpect  whatever  either 
changed  or  abridged.  Edited  by  the  A^'ery  Rev.  11.  D.  M.  Spence,, 
D.D.  (Dean  of  Gloucester),  and  the  Rev.  Joseph  S.  Exell  (Vicar  of 
Dartmouth),  Introductions  by  the  Very  Rev.  F.  W.  Farrar,  D.D., 
F.R.S.  (Dean  of  Canterbury);  the  late  Bishop  Cotterill;  the  late 
Principal  Tulloch,  D.D.;  the  Rev.  Canon  G.  Rawlinson,  M.A.; 
the  Rev.  A.  Plumjier,  JI.A.,  D.D.,  and  many  others.  With  homi- 
lies and  expositions  by  a  hundred  eminent  contributors. 


FEATURES  OF  THE  CONTENTS 


SCHOLABLT  INTRODTJCTIONS  TO 

THE  Sacred  Books.— Many  emi- 
nent authorities  have  contributed 
these  introductions,  which  are  not 
brief  or  fragmentary  outlines,  but 
scholarly  and  comprehensive  dis- 
cussions. 

Fttll  and  Adeqtjatb  Exposi- 
tions.—The  expositions  give  tex- 
tual criticism,  revised  translations, 
explanations,  apologetics,  refer- 
ences to  ancient  customs,  contem- 
porary history,  natural  history, 
geographical  research,  science,  etc. 


Sermon  Outlines  and  Brief 
HoMiLETics.  — Comprehensive 
sermon  outlines,  embracing  the 
salient  points  of  the  preceding  ex- 
positions, are  given.  Brief  homi- 
lies from  various  contributors  are 
also  fiUTiished. 

Students'  and  Preachers' 
Requirements  Met.— Its  exposi- 
tions aim  to  meet  every  require- 
ment of  the  Bible  or  theological 
student  and  to  supply  homlletlcal 
suggestions  which  shall  offer  the 
most  assistance  to  the  preacher. 


"  A  rich  resource  for  both  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  stimulation 
and  culture  to  any  student."— 
Prof.  W.  C.  Wilkinson, 
D.D.,  University  of  Chicago. 

"The  exposition  Is  scholarly 
without  the  slightest  trace  of  ped- 
antry, and  is  characterized  not 
only  by  great  historical  knowl- 
edge, but  by  freshness  of  treat- 
ment and  spiritual  insight."— The 
Liiterary  World,  London. 


"  One  of  the  greatest  achieve- 
ments of  sanctified  learning.  One 
is  filled  with  admiration  at  the 
wealth  of  sermonic  m-terial  fur- 
nished in  these  remarkable  vol- 
umes."—R.  S.  3IacArthur, 
D.D.,  New  York. 

"Exceedingly  valuable  helps  to 
a  clergyman."— James  O.  31  ur- 
D.D.,  " 


ray 

Unl^ 


Dean  of  Princeton 


versity. 


Fifty-one  Royal  8vo  Volumes.     Thoroughly  Indexed. 
Per  Volume,  $2.00. 


FUNK  &-  WAGNALLS    COMPANY,  Fubs.,  NEW  YORK 


The  Preacher's  Complete 
Homiletic  Commentaries 

This  truly  colossal  work  of  thirty-two  large,  royal  octavo  volnmes 
(Old  Testament  21  volumes,  New  Testament  11  volumes),  having 
over  eighteen  thousaiid  pages,  contains  an  expoeition,  wholly  in 
English,  on  every  paragraph  or  verse  of  the  entire  Bible  that  can  be 
used  to  advantage  in  the  preparation  of  sermons. 

DISTINCTIVE  FEATURES 

It  brings  to  the  preacher's  attention  thousands  of  texts 
heretofore  almost  v.holly  overlooked. 

Jt  concentrates  the  light  of  all  ages  and  of  all  countries  on 
the  text. 

It  is  xvholly  free  from  denominational  bias. 

It  suggests  thotisands  of  themes  for  sermons,  also  a  world 
of  illustrations. 

It  throivs  great  light  upon  the  present  controversies  over  the 
Old  Testament. 

The  Commentary/  is  tvhollg  in  English,  avoiding  Hebrew 
and  Greek,  except  here  and  there  in  the  Critical  Notes. 

PREACHER'S    COMPLETE    HOMiLETIC    COMMENTARY    ON    THE 
OLD  TESTAMENT 

(With  Critical  and  Exegetlcal  Notes).  A  sermon  outline  or  homiletic 
suggestion  on  every  paragraph  of  the  Old  Testament  that  can  be  turned 
to"use  in  the  preparation  of  a  sermon,  with  copious  indexes  to  each 
book ;  also  a  full  and  complete  index  volume  to  the  entire  series.  By 
twenty  distinguished  homilists. 

Bishop    John    F.    Hurst:    j   covers    the    best    authorities    in 


homilies.' 

Bishop  Whitaker,  of  Penn- 
sylvania :  "  I  am  struck  with  the 
suggestiveuess  of  theexpositions." 


"Tne  Preacher's  Commentary 
singularly  luminous." 

Western  Christian  Advo- 
cate: "Its   range   is  wide,   and 

8vo,  Over  12,000  Pages,  Cloth,  20  Volft.  (and  Index  Vohime),  Complete, 
$60.00;  Fe?'   Vol.,  $3.00. 

PREACHER'S    COMPLETE    HOMILETIC    COMMENTARY    ON    THE 
NEW  TESTAMENT 

A  Companion  to  the  Complete  Homiletic  Commentary  on  the  Old 
Testament.  A  useful  and  suggestive  exposition  of  every  verse  of  the 
New  Testament  which  can  be  of  value  to  sermon  makers.  By  many 
distinguished  Bible  scholars,  rniform  size  and  style  with  the  Homiletic 
Commentary  on  the  Old  Testament. 

Rev.  J.  W.  Harsha,  Pitts- 
burg, Pa.:  "  It  is  an  acre  of  dia- 
monds." 


Bishop  F.  T.  Huntington. 

Central  New  York:  "It  Is  much 
more  than  a  commentary.  The 
department  of  analysis  makes  it 
much  like  a  large  volume  of  ser- 


mons in  a  free,  copious  style  with 
a  practical  purpose." 

Bishop   John    F.    Hurst, 

Washington:  "Marked  by  helpful, 
tho  brief,  critical  notes  on  the 
text,  and  by  rich  and  stimulating 
analvses  of  the  subjects  treated." 


Cloth,   10  Vols,   and  Index  Volume  to   the  Entire  Series;   Total,  11 
Vols.,  $33.00 ;  Per  Vol.,  $3.00. 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS   COMPANY,  Pubs.,  NEV/  YORK 


The    Greatest   Commentary  for   Preachers, 
Students,  Laymen 

"  Taking  it  as  a  whole,  and  as  adapted  to  every  class  of  readers, 
this  Commentary  combines  more  excellence  than  any  other  vv<;rk  of 
the  kind  which  was  ever  written  in  any  language.''''-- Archibald 
Alexander,  D.I>. 

MATTHEW    HENRY'S 
COMMENTARY 

ON  THE  ENTIRE  BIBLE 

Matthew  Henry's  commentary  has  been  a  standard 
work  for  religious  workers  of  all  denominations  through- 
out the  world  during  two  centuries.  Many  other  commen- 
taries have  been  given  to  the  world  since  this  one  was  first 
edited,  but  Matthew  Henry's  has  never  been  superseded. 
That  it  combines  more  points  of  advantage  than  any  other 
work  of  the  kind  in  any  language  is  the  opinion  of  judi- 
cious theologians  eveiy wheie. 

"IT  IS  INCOMPARABLE" 


"  There  is  nothing  to  be  com- 
pared with  Matthew  Henry's  Com- 
mentary for  pungent  and  practical 
application  and  teachings  of  the 
text."— The  Sunday  School 
TiiueK. 

"For  clear,  evangelical,  spirit- 
ual, and  practical  Biblical  exposi- 
tion there  has  been  nothing  better 
than  this  old  standard."— Bishop 
John  11.  Vincent. 

"  Matthew  Henry's  Commen- 
taries will  prove,  in  all  the  ages 
to  come,  to  be  a  perfect  mine  of 


gold  for  laynaen."— R,  g,  Mac- 
Arthur,  D.D. 

"  For  those  who  desire  a  com- 
mon-sense, pithy,  quickening, 
reverent,  uplifting  commentary 
on  the  Bible,  notning  is  better 
than  Matthew  Heurv."— Geo. 
Dana  Uoardman,  D.D. 

"  :Matthew  Henry's  Commentary 
will  last  for  ages  because  of  its 
thorough  evangelism,  its  loveli- 
ness, and  its  attractiveness."— 
Ex-Prcs.  James  McCosh, 
D.D. 


FOR  ALL  BIBLE  STUDENTS 

The  work  is  a  People's  and  Pastor's  Commentary  and  Bible 
treasure-house.  It  is  invaluable  to  all  Pastors,  Sunday-School 
Teachers,  Superintendents,  Class  Leaders,  Christian  Families— in 
fact  to  all  who  wish  to  give  their  Bible  intelligent  reading,  and  ac- 
curate interpretation. 

6  Royal  Octavo  Vols.,  4,30G  pp.,  100  Illustrations.    Ptice,  $18.00. 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS   COWPAWY,  Pubs.,  NEW  YORK 


STANDARD    COMMENTARIES 


Meyer's  Commentary  on  the  New  Testament 

An  American  edition,  with  preface,  notes,  and  introduction  by 
several  American  scholars.  Large  8vo,  Cloth,  11  vols.,  $3.00  per  voi. 
By  H.  A.  W.  Meyer. 

Concise  Commentary  on  ^he  Holy  Bible 

By  RoEEET  Young,  D.D.  Especially  designed  for  those  teach 
ing  the  Word  of  God,  whether  preachers,  Scripture  readers.  Sabbath- 
school  teachers,  oi  heads  of  families.    8vo,  802  pp.,  Cloth,  |3.00. 

Commentary  on  Daniel;  the  Prophet 

By  Edward  B.  Pcsey,  D.D.  A  scholarly  and  devout  Commen 
tary-    8vo,  519  pp.     Cloth,  $3.00. 

Commentary  on  Prophecies  of  Isaiah 

By  Prop.  Franz  Delitzsch.  Two  vols.,  crown  8vo,  Cloth, 
$2.50  per  vol. 

Commentary  on  the  Book  of  Psalms 

By  Prof.  Franz  Delitzsch.  From  latest  edition,  revised  and 
corrected  by  the  author.  Translated  by  the  Rev.  David  Eaton, 
M.A.    In  3  vols.     Crown  8vo,  1,533  pp..  Cloth,  $2.00  per  vol. 

Commentary  on  the  Minor  Prophets 

By  Edward  B.  Pushy,  D.D.  Vol.  I.,  Hosea,  Joel,  Amos,  Obad- 
iah,  Jonas,  427  pp.;  Vol.  II.,  Micah,  Nahum,  Habakkuk,  Zephaniah, 
Malachi,  504  pp.    8vo,  Cloth,  per  vol.,  $3.00. 

Commentary  on  St.  Lulce's  Gospel 

By  W.  H.  Van  Doren,  D.D.  Edited  by  Prof,  Kernan,  Lon- 
don, Two  vols.,  8vo,  1,090  pp..  Cloth,  $3.75. 

Commentary  on  Exodus 

By  J.A3IES  G.  Murphy,  D.D.     Critical  and  esegetical,  with  a 
new  'ranslation     New  edition^  unbridged,  with  preface  and  notes 
by  John  Hal.l,  D.D.    232  pp..  2  vols..  Paper,  $1.00;  1  vol..  Cloth,      i 
$1.50.  ^ 

Godet's  Commentaries 

A  series  of  Commentaries,  by  F.  F.  Godet,  D.D.,  translated  and  j 

edited,  with  pieface,  notes,  and  introduction,  by  eminent  American  | 

scholars.     St.  Luke,  584  pj).,    St.  John,   1,130  pp.   (in  two  vois.y  ! 

Romans,  545  pp.    8vo,  per  vol..  Cloth,  $3.00.  | 


FUNK  &,  WAG.MALLS    COf^PANY    Pubs..  NFW   YORK     ^ 


Helps  for  Preachers  and  Theological  Students 


The  Church  in  America  and  Its  Baptisms  of  Fire 

A  general  bird's-eye  view  of  the  religious  progress  of  the  last 
two  centuries  in  this  country,  including  au  account  of  the  principal 
religious  bodies;  of  the  great  eras  of  revivals  and  of  the  leading 
revivalists,  etc.  By  Rev.  S.  B.  IIalliuay  and  D.  S.  Gregory,  D.D., 
LL.D.  Illustrated  with  40  portraits.  Octavo,  Cloth,  744  pp.,  large 
type,  $5.00. 

It  is  very  complete  and  accurate,  stimulating  as  well  as  Instructive, 
Impartial  and  correct.  It  is  very  useful,  bringing  together  a  large  body 
of  Information  not  easily  to  be  attained  elsewhere  In  the  same  compass. 
—  Talbot  W.  Chambers,  D.D. 

This  book  is  a  perfect  trenanrn  of  vitally  Important  facts  In  the 
history  of  evangelical  religion  In  this  country,  and  enlivened  by  in- 
tensely interesting  Incidents.  To  every  young  minister  it  Is  a  book  of 
immense  ralue  for  the  facts,  and  is  full  of  soul-kindling  Inspirations. 
If  I  were  a  millionaire,  I  would  send  a  copy  to  e\  cry  minister,  and  it 
would  be  a  seed  of  Jire  to  kindle  Christian  activltiL'S.  It  also  contains 
condensed  histories  of  all  the  leading  denominations.  It  ought  to  have 
a  vast  circulation.— Thbodobk  L.  Culyeb,  D.D. 

Homiletics 

By  James  M.  Hoppin,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Homiletics  in  Yale  Uni- 
versity. The  history  of  preaching,  sketches  of  celebrated  preachers, 
criticisms,  and  discussions  of  various  methods  of  sermon-making, 
advice  on  pulpit  delivery,  etc.,  are  given  with  great  thoroughness  in 
this  volume.    New  edition.    8vo,  84,5  pp..  Cloth,  §3.00. 

Every  kind  of  sermon  is  described  and  analyzed.  The  principles  of 
composition  and  rhetoric,  as  applied  to  the  sermons,  are  laid  down  and 
illustrated.— TAc  Independent,  New  York. 

Institutes  of  the  Christian  Religion 

A  new  work  on  systematic  theology.  By  Prop.  Emanuel  V. 
Gerhart,  D.D.,  LL.I).,  Professor  of  Practical  Theology  in  the 
Theological  Seminary  of  the  Reformed  Church,  Lancaster,  Pa.,  with 
introduction  by  Philip  Schafp,  D.D.,  LL.D.  Complete  in  two  8vo, 
volumes;  1,744  pp.,  with  valuable  index  to  each  book.  Cloth,  per 
volume,  $3.00. 

A  very  valuable  addition  to  the  science  of  Christian  theology.—  The 
Lutheran  Observer,  Philadelphia. 

The  Story  of  Jonah  in  the  Light  of  Higher  Criticism 

A  vindication  of  the  Book  of  Jonah  from  the  standpoint  of  the 
higher  criticism.  By  Prof.  Ltjther  Tracy  Townsend.  16mo, 
Cloth,  120  pp.    .50  cents. 

The  summing  up  of  the  argument  appears  to  be  unanswerable,  and 
to  the  Christian  will  be  inspiring.— CAn«<ton  Work,  New  York. 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS   COMPANY,  Pubs.,  NEW  YORK 


Helps  for  Preachers  and  Theological  Students 


History  of  English  Bible  Translation 

Revised  and  brought  down  to  the  present  time  by  Thomas  Con- 
ant,  D.D.,  member  of  the  Old  Testament  Revision  Committee,  and 
translator  for  the  American  Bible  Union  Edition  of  the  Scriptures. 
The  history  was  originally  written  by  Mrs.  H.  C.  Conant,  the  late 
wife  of  Dr.  Conant.  It  is  a  complete  history  of  Bible  revision  from 
the  Wycliffe  Bible  to  the  revised  version.    8vo,  296  pp.,  Cloth,  $1.00. 

This  is  the  best  history  of  the  English  translation  of  the  Bible  with 
which  we  are  acquainted,  and  it  gives  some  details  respecting  both 
Wycllfle  and  Tjoidale  not  to  be  found  in  general  histories  of  the  Bible. 
—  The  Outlook,  Neio  York. 

The  History  of  the  Cross 

The  Lamb  in  the  Midst  of  the  Throne;  or,  The  History  of  the 
Cross.    By  James  M.  Sherwood,  D.D.    8vo,  525  pp..  Cloth,  |2.00. 

The  History  of  the  Cross  is  an  exceedingly  able  and  valuable  work. 
It  is  especially  refreshing  in  these  days  of  theological  dearth  to  meet 
with  a  discussion  like  this,  from  a  competent  writer,  of  one  of  the  great 
themes  in  which  the  old  masters  delighted,  and  which  will  doubtless  be 
a  joy  to  the  redeemed  forever.— i>.  S.  Gregory,  D.D. 

Life  and  Works  of  St.  Paul 

Without  notes.  Contents  and  index  in  full.  By  Dean  Fred- 
erick W.  Farrar,  D.D.  In  two  volumes,  4to.  Vol.  I.,  96  pp.; 
Vol.  n.,  100  pp..  Paper,  each,  25  cents. 

We  think  that  few  will  deny  this  to  be  the  most  interesting  life  of 
Paul  ever  published.— TAe  Congregationalist,  £ost07i. 

Bible  Lexicons 

By  Robert  YotiNG,  LL.D.  Hebrew-English  and  Greek-English 
lexicons  to  the  original  Scriptures  of  the  old  and  new  covenants,  ex- 
hibiting all  the  varied  renderings  of  each  word  in  the  English  version, 
and  the  number  of  their  occurrences;  with  a  Romanized  index;  also 
a  treatise  on  the  idiomatic  use  of  the  Hebrew  tenses,  analytical  sur- 
veys of  the  books,  the  facts,  and  the  idiomB  of  the  Bible.  Large 
Octavo,  Cloth,  $2.50. 

Christian  Creeds  and  Confessions 

A  short  account  of  the  symbolical  books  of  the  churches  and 
sects  of  Christendom  and  the  doctrines  dependent  on  them.  By  G. 
A.  GuMLiCH,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Theology,  Berlin.  12mo,  184  pp., 
with  index,  Cloth,  $1.00. 

Christian  Creeds  and  Confessions  is  an  admirable  compendium.  It 
is  useful  to  those  possessing  the  larger  treatises.  It  fixes  the  attention 
upon  the  ImporUnt  itolnts.— Professor  W.  H.  Maynard. 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS   COMPANY,  Pubs.,  NEW  YORK 


Helps  for  Preachers  and  Theological  Students 


Theology  of  the  Old  Testament 

Treating  among  other  subjects,  the  limits  of  Old  Testament 
Theology,  the  scientiflc  standpoint  of  Old  Testament  Theology, 
history  of  the  cultivation  of  Old  Testament  Theology,  method  of 
Biblical  Theology,  the  Mosaic  idea  of  God,  relation  of  God  to  the 
world,  the  Theocracy,  the  theology  of  prophetism.  By  Dr.  Gustav 
Frleurich  Oehler,  the  late  Professor  Ordinariiis  of  Theology  in 
Tubingen,  Leipzig.  Edited  by  Prof.  Geo.  E.  Day,  D.D.,  of  Yale 
University.    8vo,  613  pp..  Cloth,  $3.00. 

Oehler's  Theology  of  the  OUl  Testament  has  for  a  generation  been 
considered  as  at  the  head  of  till  treati.ses  on  the  subject  — a  subject 
which  just  now  has  assumed  unusual  prominence,  especially  to  those 
who  are  persuaded  that  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New  stand  or  fall 
together.— T.  IK.  Chamberti,  D.D. 

Pastoral  Theology 

The  whole  field  of  literature  on  this  theme,  ancient  and  recent, 
has  been  searched  for  suggestive  material  and  historic  instances. 
By  James  M.  Hoppin,  D.D.,  Professor  of  the  History  of  Art,  and 
late  of  Homiletics  and  Pastoral  Theology  in  Yale  University.  8vo, 
596  pp..  Cloth,  $2.50. 

It  is  evidently  the  fruit  of  many  years'  reflection  upon  the  experi- 
ence of  a  successful  pastoral  service  in  the  person  of  its  author.- J.M««m 
Phelps,  D.D. 

Outlines  of  the  History  of  Dogma 

By  Dr.  Adolph  IIarxack,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Church  History 
in  the  University  of  Berlin.  Translated  by  Edwin  Knox  Mitchell, 
M.A.,  Professor  of  Graeco-Romau  and  Oriental  Church  History  in 
Hartford  Theological  Seminary.  8vo,  Cloth,  567  pp.;  large  type, 
marginal  notes,  etc. ;  §2.50. 

Harnack  Is  the  fourth  and  ablest  successor  of  Neander  In  the  Uni- 
versity of  Berlin;  an  inspiring  teswher  and  easily  the  first  living  Church 
historian  of  Germany.— PAiZtp  Schaff,  D.D.,  LL.D. 

Jewish  Artisan  Life  in  the  Time  of  Jesus 

By  Prof.  Franz  Delitzsch.  According  to  the  oldest  sources. 
Translated  from  the  third  revised  edition  by  Rev.  Bernhabd  Pick, 
Ph.D.    12mo,  91  pp..  Cloth,  75  cents. 

The  work  is  of  real  value  especially  to  Bible  students.— iV^eio  York 
Tribune. 

The  Key  to  the  Gospels;  Or,  Why  Four  Gospels? 

By  Rev.  D.  S.  Gregory,  D.D.,  LL.D.  New  edition.  12mo,  348 
pp.,  Cloth,  $1.00. 

It  is  a  masterwork  upon  Its  special  theme.  It  Is  the  only  complete 
and  conclusive  e.xposltiou  of  the  distinctive  characteristics  of  the 
Grospel  writings  and  their  writers.- j:  Glentworth  Butler,  D.D. 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLS   COMPANY,  Pu'js.,  NEW  YORK 


The  Elements  of  the  Higher  Criticism 

The  scope  of  this  work  is  not  to  advocate  or  oppose  any  set  of 
results,  but  to  state  and  explain  the  principles  and  methods  of  the 
higher  criticism,  with  reference  to  the  large  and  growing  periodical 
and  book  literature  on  the  subject.  By  Andrew  C.  Zenos,  D.D., 
Professor  of  Biblical  Theology  in  McCormick  Theological  Seminary, 
Chicago.     12mo,  Cloth,  268  pp.,  $1.00. 

While  the  work  is  neither  a  plea  nor  a  phillipic,  it  is  eminently 
reassuring  as  to  the  Divine  Source  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  the  Bible.— 
The  Arena,  Boston. 

A  book  of  intense  interest  to  all  religious  fo\^.— George  A.  Hep- 
tcortfi,  D.D.,  in  the  New  York  Herald. 

The  Resultant  Greek  Testament 

This  work  exhibits  the  text  in  which  the  majority  of  modern 
editors  are  agreed,  and  contains  the  readings  of  Stephens  (1550), 
Lachmann,  Tregelles,  Tischendorf,  Lightfoot,  Elicott,  Alford,  Weiss; 
the  Bale  Edition  (1880),  Westcott  and  Hort,  and  the  Revision  Com- 
mittee. By  Richard  Francis  Weymouth,  D.  Lit.,  Fellow  of  Uni- 
versity College.  London.  With  an  introduction  by  the  Bishop  of 
Worcester.    8vo.  Cloth,  653  pp.    Price,  83.00. 

Vast  judgment  and  acute  discrimination  characterize  the  entire 
•wox^.—  The  'Watchman,  Boston. 

Studies  in  the  Book  of  Mark 

For  teachers,  pastors,  and  parents.  By  D.  C.  Hughes.  In  two 
parts.     One  volume,  8vo,  324  pp..  Cloth,  $1.25. 

Heroes  of  Faith 

Simple  studies  in  New  Testament  Greek,  based  on  the  celebrated 
eleventh  chapter  of  Hebrews.  By  Bueris  A.  Jenkins.  With  an 
introduction  by  Prof.  Joseph  Henry  Thayer,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  of 
Harvard  University.    8vo,  64  pp.,  Cloth,  75  cents. 

It  is  much  to  be  ushered  into  the  glorious  assembly  of  these  heroes 
of  f2i,\t\i.— Religious  Telescope. 

Church  History 

By  Prof.  Johann  Heinrich  Kurtz.  Translated  by  Rev.  John 
MacPherson,  A.m.  Complete  in  three  vols.,  with  thorough  Index 
and  Chronological  tables.  1650  pp.  Price  per  vol.,  §2.00;  for  the 
set,  $6.00. 

A  work  of  high  scholarship,  thorough  grasp  of  details,  and  especially 
adapted  for  historical  students.— PrQ/".  Henry  A.  Buttz,  D.D.,  Pres. 
Drew.  Theol.  Seminary. 


FUNK  &  WAGMALLS   COMPANY,  Pubs.,  NEW  YORK 


Helps  for  i^reachers  and  Theological  Students 


A  Manual  of  introduction  to  the  New  Testament 

By  Prof.  Berniiaru  Weiss,  Ph.D.,  Univerfiity  of  Berlin. 
Translations  by  A.  J.  K.  Davidson.  A  critical  and  analytical  study 
of  t'le  New  Testament.   Complete  in  two  vols.  871  pp.     Price,  $4.00. 

The  analysis  of  the  sacred  writers  and  their  works  Is  very  acute.  The 
foot-notes  are  a  perfect  thesaurus  of  information  upon  the  literature  of 
the  subject  under  treatment.— ChristiuJi  Endeavor  World,  Bonton. 

The  Bible  View  of  the  Jewish  Church 

Thirteen  lectures.  By  Rev.  Howard  Crosby,  D.D.  12mo,  209 
pp.,  Cloth,  gl.OO. 

The  learned  author  has  collated  many  Interesting  facts  — new  to 
many  and  unportant  to  all  —  relating  to  the  Old  Testament  Church.— 
Christian  Advocate,  Pittsburg. 

Moses  and  His  Recent  Critics 

Twelve  essays  by  distinguished  scholars.  Edited  by  Talbot  W. 
Chambers,  D.D.    12mo,  413  pp.,  Cloth,  $2.00. 

Young's  Bible  Translation 

The  Holy  Bible,  consisting  of  the  old  and  new  convenants,  trans- 
lated according  to  the  letter  and  idioms  of  the  original  languages.  A 
new  and  valuable  translation.  Octavo,  780  pp.,  Cloth,  $4.00.  Second 
revised  edition. 

The  style  throughout  Is  strikingly  picturesque,  and  frequently  dra- 
matic, while  many  of  the  emendations  are  peculiarly  felicitous.— iSer. 
Adain  Stuart  3Iuir,  D.D.,  Leith. 

Still  Hours 

By  Richard  Rothe.  A  collection  of  profound  and  suggestive 
aphorisms  by  the  great  thinker.  Translated  by  Jane  T.  Stoddard. 
With  an  introductory  essay  by  Rev.  John  MacPherson,  M.A. 
Complete  in  one  vol.    425  pp.     Price,  §2.00. 

It  is  a  rich  treasury  of  profound  and  practical  spiritual  suggestion.— 
The  Congreuutionalist,  Boston. 

Methods  of  Church  Work 

Suggestions  for  the  successful  management  of  the  church— relig- 
ious, financial,  social— for  preachers  of  all  denominations.  By  Stl- 
VANUS  Stall,  D.D.    8vo,  cloth,  304  pp.    $1.50. 

It  Is  stimulating,  helpful,  and  worth  Its  weight  In  gold  to  any  min- 
ister who  wishes  to  accomplish  anything  for  the  kingdom  of  Christ.- 
New  York  Christian  Intelligencer. 


FUNK  &  WAGNALLG   COf^^iPAI^Y,  Pubs.,  NEW  YORK 


Joseph  JParJver,  D.D.,  Loudon:  "  I  look  upon  The 
HoMiLETic  Review  as  tlie  best  periodical  of  its  kind.  I  am 
greatly  struck  by  the  range  and  variety  of  its  contents  and 
by  the  general  ability  with  which  it  is  conducted." 

96  PAGES  — ISSLED  MONTHLY 

THE  HOMILETIC  REVIEW 


The  Homiletic  Review  contains  discussion  and  in- 
formation on  all  the  important  topics  and  problems  in  the- 
ology and  religion.  It  secures  the  best  conti'ibutions  from 
the  leading  thinkers,  writers,  and  preachers  of  the  Chris- 
tian world.  The  attitude  of  the  church  toward  all  the  live 
issues  of  the  day  receives  full  attention  in  its  pages.  The 
Review  is  international  in  its  scope  and  it  is  a  practical 
help  to  ministers,  theological  students,  and  other  religious 
workers. 

HELPFUL  FEATIRES  EVERY  MONTH 


THE  REV3EW  SECTION  contains 
every  month  articles  from  dis- 
tinguished authorities  and  of 
vital  interest  to  the  Christian 
worker. 

TKE  SERMONIC  SECTION  pre- 
sents representative  sermons  on 
topics  of  importance  delivered 
by  clergymen  of  all  denomina- 
tions. 

THE  SEED  THOUGHT  SECTJON 
provides  stimulating  suggestions 
and  many  helps  to  the  "preacher 
for  strengthening  his  sermons. 

EXEGETIC4L  AND  EXPOSITORY 
SECTION  aSords  expositions  and 
explanations  disclosing  truths  of 
value  to  preachers  and  students. 


THE  PASTORAL  SECTION  un- 
folds each  month  the  weekly 
prayer-meeting  topics,  and  gives 
profitable  interchange  of  opin- 
ion. 

THE  SOCIAL  SECTION  furnishes 
information  by  experts  on  all  of 
church  social  work. 

THE  MISCELLANEOUS  SECTION 

has  helps  on   church  organiza- 
tions, minister's  duties,  etc. 

THt  EDITORIAL  SECTION  offers 
discussions  of  live  issues  of 
church  work:  notices  of  books 
of  homiletical  value,  data  from 
current  literature,  "  Our  Blue 
Monday  Clab,"  etc. 


SOME  OPINiONS  OF  ITS  WORTH 


Newell     Dwight      Hillis, 

D.D.,  successor  of  Henry  Ward 
Beecher  as  Pastor  of  Plymouth 
Church,  Brooklyn:  "The  very 
best  of  its  kind  published  for 
preachers." 

R.  S.  MacArthur,   D.D.: 

"It  Is  full  of  suggestion,  instruc- 
tion, and  inspiration." 


The  Cliiistian  Intelli- 
gencer. New  York:  "It  repre- 
sents the  best  pulpit  talent  of  the 
two  continents." 

Wayland  Hoyt,  D.D.:   "I 

am  persuaded  there  is  no  more 
valuable  publication  for  the  min- 
ister." 


$3.00  per  year ;  to  Clergymen  (in  advanced,  $2.50. 
Single  Copies,  30  cents. 


FUNK  &,  WAGNALLS   GORSPANY,  Pubs.,  NEW  YORK 


I7ie  Jiock,  London:  "  The  Missionary  Review  is  the  only  com- 
plete current  review  of  uiiesionary  operations  aiul  problems  ...  all 
the  world  over." 


The  Missionary  Review 

OF  THE  WORLD 


The  Missionary  Review  has  staff  correspondents  in 
every  field  of  mission  activity.  Its  aim  is  to  provide  the 
best  records  of  mission  achievements,  the  strongest  incen- 
tives to  all  Christian  vt-ork,  and  the  ripest  opinions  on  all 
missionary  topics.  All  vital  features  of  home  and  foreign 
missions  receive  full  and  interesting  attention  in  its  pages 
with  illustrated  articles  from  well  known  authorities.  It 
is  undenominational.    Illustrated  and  issued  monthly. 

REVIEW  DEPARTMENT 


Field  of  Monthly  Survey 
Editoral  Department 


International  Department 
Literature  of  Missions 


General  Missionary  Intelligence 

AUTHORITATIVE  AND  INSPIRING 


Experienced  StnflX'orre- 
spondents  contribute  helpful 
articles  from  every  center  of  mis- 
sion activity.  The  Review  receive! 
contributions  from  all  the  great 
mission  authorities. 


Its  Editors  have  the  great 
cause  of  missions  closely  at  heart 
and  are  themselves  active  partici- 
pants in  far-reaching  mission 
movements  at  home  and  abroad. 


HIGH   GOMiytENDATION  FROM  AUTHORITIES 


The  Revie^v  of  Reviews  : 

"The  Missionary  ReviEwis/«r 
aicdf/  the  best  thing  out.  In  every 
respect— literary  style,  breadth, 
news,  get-up— r/fi?/(<." 

Bishop F.  D.  Hauting^ton : 

"  Supplies  a  carefully  gathered 
treasury  of  knowledge,  authentic 
and  comprehensive." 


Rev.    Dr.    R.    W.    Dale: 

"  Incomparably  the  best  and  most 
stimulating  periodical  on  mis- 
sions." 

J.  O.  Murray,  D.D. :   "  By 

its  survey  of  the  wbole  field  of 
missions,  It  gives  a  view  of  prog- 
ress In  the  kingdom  of  God  which 
is  most  helpful." 


§2.50  per  year;  S2.00  in  clubs  of  ten  or  more. 
Single  Copies,  25  cents. 


FUNK  Hl  WAGNALLo   COMiANY,  Pubs.,    NEW  YORK 


"No  other  publication  of  its  class  is  of  equal  value.  No  one 
who  desires  to  keep  abreast  with  information  on  all  lines  of  current 
interest  can  afford  to  be  without  The  Literary  Digest.— Kansas 
City  Times. 

ISSUED  WEEKLY.     32  PAGES.     ILLUSTRATED 

THE  LITERARY  DIGEST 

"Ail  the  Periodicals  in  One" 

The  Literary  Digest  has  taken  the  highest  rank  as  a  weekly 
review  of  current  thought  at  home  and  abroad,  in  the  realms  of  lit- 
erature, art,  science,  religion,  politics,  sociology,  travel,  discovery, 
business,  etc.  Its  contents  are  selected  and  translated  from  the 
world's  choicest  periodical  literature,  and  are  given  partly  in  sum- 
mary, partly  in  direct  quotation.  Discussion  and  information  on  all 
sides  of  important  questions  are  given.  The  contents  each  week 
cover  a  field  so  diversified  as  to  make  The  Literary  Digest  indis- 
pensable to  busy  men  and  women  who  desire  to  keep  up  with  the 
thought  of  the  time,  but  who  lack  the  leisure  for  such  a  task. 


THE  BUSY  MAN'S  BEST  FRIE^D 
It  is  the  realization  of  a  busy  man's  ideal.    It  saves  its  readers 
time  and  expense,  and  it  broadens  their  minds  and  widens  their 
outlook. 

REGULAR   DEPARTMENTS 


Topics  of  the  Day  :  Including 
Intelligent  and  valuable  informa- 
tion and  discussion  from  the 
world's  oest  periodicals  on  all 
sides  of  important  topics  of  cur- 
rent interest  in  politics,  finance, 
business,  industry,  economics,  so- 
ciology, etc.,  etc. 

FoKBiGx  Topics:  Readers  of 
The  Litekaey  Digest  keep  in 
close  touch  with  important  events, 
agitations,  controversies,  etc.,  in 
foreign  lands,  through  articles 
from  the  best  foreign  periodicals. 

The  Religious  World  :  Inter- 
esting information  on  important 
topics,  discussions,  discoveries, 
controversies,  etc.,  in  the  religious 
and  theological  woild  is  winnowed 
and  presented  by  The  Digest. 

Science  and  Invention  :  The 
latest  progress  and  topics  of  im- 


portance in  chemistry,  physiology, 
hygiene,  surgery,  mecliauics.  bot- 
any, electricity,  mvention,  are  se- 
lected and  regularly  given. 

Letters  and  Art:  Topics  of 
general  literary  interest;  literary 
criticisms  and  discussions;  irrfor- 
mation  about  prominent  authors; 
the  higher  drama,  are  selected 
from  the  best  sources. 

Rotable  Books  of  the  Day  : 
New  books  are  reviewed  by  expe- 
rienced critics,  and  in  most  cases 
portraits  of  the  authors  accom- 
pany the  reviews. 

Miscellaneous:  Always  pro- 
viding a  miscellany  of  interesting 
items,  including  Current  Poetry, 
Pen^sonal  Kenif^,  Chesn  Depart- 
ment, "More  or  Less  Pungent," 
Coming  Events,  Current  Events, 
etc. 


S3.00  per  Year,  10  cents  per  Copy. 


FUMK  &  WA6NALLS   COMPANY,  Pubs.,  NEW  YORK 


Princeton  Theological  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1    1012  01026  2907 


